


Danger is in Plain Sight

by butterflybrigade



Series: Late night antics [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: BAMF Dean, Blood Drinking, F/M, Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers, Vampire Dean, girl!Sam, notrelatedwinchesters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-02-15 16:20:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2235492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflybrigade/pseuds/butterflybrigade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is kidnapped by vampires when a hunt goes wrong. Will she make it out alive when a certain bloodsucker takes interest in her? Not to mention that fellow hunters see her as an abomination and try to end her as well. Is anyone on her side? She might be surprised when she actually finds out who really has her back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Capture

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Butterfly Effect](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1009488) by [SunlightOnTheWater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunlightOnTheWater/pseuds/SunlightOnTheWater). 



> Just a couple of notes here!
> 
> 1.Sam has always been a girl  
> 2\. She is the only child of John and Mary Winchester  
> Now that that's all out of the way, enjoy!

The night was still as the group of hunters trudged silently through the woods. Autumn was beginning to invade the summer nights with frost that gently covered the leaves, making it difficult for the three men and one woman to be silent while doing their rounds.

Sam Winchester flinched at the sound of cracking twigs, but she tried to reassure herself that it was only their group that made the noise, not any predators lurking in the trees. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Especially when she was always right with her gut feelings these days.

Gordon led the way through the dense woods without hesitation or regard for the others. If he had it his way, he would’ve left the others behind to deal with the nest of vampires himself, but Bobby caught wind of Daniel Elkins’ death the same time he did. So unfortunately, he had no choice but to let the Winchester and him tag along.

It made his blood boil to think that he might have to share the kill of his sister’s murderer with a bunch of random hunters that are only here to avenge a friend. Gordon had been hunting this nest for years before the others were even interested and now they choose to help him defeat these blood suckers. And it wasn’t just that. He didn’t mind having Bobby around. It was the girl that made him cringe…

Samantha Winchester. The Devil Spawn. Sure her mother and father were human, but what the demon that killed their mother did to her made her not quite human anymore in his book. Having her around him made Gordon’s skin crawl, though he tried not to show it. The only reason he found out about her little secret was from some anonymous tips, word on the streets, and psychics. Of course, he didn’t really believe it until he overheard with his own ears Bobby talking to John about it.

So naturally, when Bobby told him that Sam was coming along, Gordon enlisted his most religion-crazed, bible-beater friend Kubrick. If he could get anyone along with the idea of getting rid of a notorious hunter if he thought it was God’s will, it was Kubrick.

Bobby repositioned his rifle to a more comfortable angle as they traveled deeper into the woods. He was getting pretty irritated with Gordon and his antics. He would have felt much safer had they waited one more day to narrow down their targets. But no, Gordon demanded they leave _tonight_. Bobby looked forward to see Gordon leading the way with Kubrick following him like a lost puppy, while Sam stayed behind to guard the back.

“How much farther? Are you sure you remember the way?” Bobby whispered, already regretting the decision to go out tonight.

“Of course I remember! I’m not a senile old man yet.” Gordon returned angrily, but kept the whisper.

Before Bobby could react, Sam interrupted the two. “You guys… I’m not getting a good feeling about this. I think we should turn back.” She affirmed and stopped in her tracks to emphasize her point.

Bobby also stopped, but he was concerned. He turned to her and whispered so low that the others couldn’t hear. “Why? Did you have a vision?” Her eyebrows knitted in worry as if to say ‘ _we don’t talk about that with other people around_ ’.

Luckily, Gordon didn’t notice but instead walked over to her and peered down at her intimidatingly.

“Why Sammy? You’re not scared are you?” he mocked and crossed his arms.

Sam stared up unflinchingly. She was used to working with misogynistic men who thought women couldn’t be good hunters because they didn’t have a dick. It also didn’t help that Sam had always been inconveniently petite her whole life, encouraging all sorts of remarks from other hunters. Eventually, after some difficult hunts with dad, Sam finally saw her size as an advantage. She could easily maneuver out of tight crawl spaces (which was helpful if you were ever kidnapped) along with being quicker in hand-to-hand combat.

Even though she hated to admit it, one thing she did have to thank her father for was teaching her to be confident in the face of assholes like Gordon. They might not have always seen things eye to eye but the man did teach her everything she knew today.

“It’s Sam.” She glared back. “And your directions are leading us nowhere. We are sitting ducks out here and you are putting our lives in danger.”

Gordon frowned, while Bobby relaxed from going into father-mode in order to defend Sam. He saw that she could handle herself just fine. Gordon looked like he was going to pop a vessel from being so angry, when a bell-like laughter erupted from the trees.

“Oh, pardon us! We’re not interrupting anything, are we?” a tall blonde woman asked as she emerged into the opening.

The hunters went into defensive formation, waiting to assess how many of them there were. Each of them pulled their weapon in front of them, expecting a fight. The woman scowled.

“How rude.” She pouted and nodded her head towards the humans. Seemingly out of nowhere, two more vamps formed out of the darkness and started pacing around the group. “You know… you mister look very familiar. Have we met?” the woman asked, indicating to Gordon.

“No ma’am. If we have ever met before, you’d be dead.” He spat.

“Well that’s not very nice. Wait a minute… Gordon Walker! That’s your name.” she smiled triumphantly.

Gordon tensed, and made Sam worry. If he moved an inch he would leave her side completely exposed to the other vamps that kept circling them.

“You’ve heard of me?” he questioned.

“No, your sister told me about you.” She winked.

And just like that, all hell broke loose.

Gordon charged her, and the other vampires lunged at us and it was a blur of steel and blood, teeth and fists. The brutality was difficult to face especially when Gordon was knocked unconscious by the woman. It was just us three against the two leeches. Blood splattered the frosted leaves on the ground. Make that one leech left besides the woman.

All the sudden, a cold arm was wrapped around Sam's unsuspecting neck in a vice grip. She struggled for breath as spots began to cloud her vision.

“Stop, or I’ll break her neck!” the woman’s voice broke through the autumn air. The men had the other vamp pinned to the ground about to cut off his head like his friend, but they stopped when they saw Sam. Slowly, they let the other leech go. “Good. Now, I know you’ll behave if I have this one with me so the new plan is that you are going to take your friend-“ she nodded toward Gordon “-back with you to town. You will not follow us, is that understood?”

Bobby stepped forward, but the woman tightened the grip on Sam’s throat and a pained gasp escaped her lips. He stopped in his tracks, desperately trying to think of something to do. He could let Sam be kidnapped and probably be drank dry by this bloodsucker. She was like a daughter to him, and he had to protect her.

“Please, take me instead.” Bobby offered.

The woman giggled. “I don’t think so. Besides, this one’s so portable.” She laughed, and dragged Sam into the trees with her, completely disappearing from sight as the other leech followed.

“NO!” Bobby yelled as he tried to run after them, but was stopped by Kubrick.

“We’ll come back. We can’t go after her now.” He tried to reason.

Kubrick’s words washed over Bobby like water over stone, but Bobby was unmoved by the words. Instead, he grudgingly dragged Gordon back to town with the other man’s help.

 _Don’t worry Sammy, we’ll get you back. I promise._ Bobby thought, but doubt was already beginning to cloud his optimism.


	2. The Interrogation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait! Wanted to make sure I posted it the way I liked it :)

Dean was planning six different ways to kill the blabber-mouth vampire across from him and make it seem like an accident. The punk was a new recruit and thought he was the shit, talking smack about how many people he had killed and how he was there when his Alpha killed Daniel Elkins. Dean couldn’t possibly fathom what that hot blonde saw in this ass wipe of a kid to convince her to turn him into something like them.

Right now, the kid was asking him his favorite blood type along with how old he was and an array of other torturous questions that Dean had no interest in answering. The only blood he had on his mind was the pimply teenager’s blood across the floor and the blessed silence that would follow the act. He tried ignoring the kid- what _was_ his name? Brandon? Blake?- by being overly engrossed in cleaning his weapons, but the newborn would not get the hint.

“Look kid, I really-“

“Blade.”

“Excuse me?”

“My name is Blade.” The teen confirmed, proud of the title he had given himself.

_Seriously? Blade? Only pompous asses give themselves their own nickname. And was this a knock off the half-vampire comic book character? This kid was not going to make it far in the vampire world._

“Look… Blade. As much as I cherish our conversations, I’m very busy. And don’t you-“

Dean stopped talking, but not because he was interrupted by the teen, but because of the new scent that filled the abandoned farm house. There was the familiar smell of Trisha, the hot blonde, and her companion Bert, but there was something else… something sweet… alive.

Wordlessly, Dean put the knife he was cleaning down and made his way up the rickety stairs with “Blade” silently following him for once. Once he opened the door, he was massaged with the very light and very human scent coming from the entryway. It was easy to pick out from the dead musty smell of his own kin, so it made sense that humans stood out, easier targets.

Trisha was waving her blonde tresses out of her face while Bert took the unconscious hunter off his shoulders and set her on the floor when Dean and Blade came into sight, no doubt they thought she brought take out. Hungry boys.

“Whoa, what happened here?” Blade chirped, feeling out if the chick on the floor was dinner.

“Piss off Pimples. She’s mine. I’m going to make her my plaything for what she did.” Trisha shot the teen down and he visibly sulked.

“Where’s the other one? And why are you bleeding?” Dean asked, not necessarily concerned, but more curious to see what had happened.

“Chuck is dead. Hunters killed him. And this one,” Trisha pointed to the hunter on the ground “knifed me when I was dragging her back here. So I knocked her out and had Bert carry the brat.”

“Hunters were following you. And you kidnapped one of their own. Are you stupid?”

Trisha was shocked to be spoken to in such a manner. “How dare you, I am the Alpha of this nest! Learn your place, you are a guest in this house!”

“Derik is the Alpha, you’re just his mate.” Dean said. “And I wouldn’t even have to be here if you weren’t such a major fuck up, that Derik begged me to help you deal with your ‘Hunter’ problem. Maybe if you actually had control over your newborns and their bloodlust you wouldn’t even be in this situation.”

“You cannot just barge in here and tell me what to do! Just because Derik isn’t here right now doesn’t mean you have the right to address me this way!”

Trisha might be super-hot, but that doesn’t stop her from being a complete bitch. “Fine. Do what you want with the girl. But what do you think Derik will do when he finds out you killed another hunter out of spite?” Dean countered.

Trisha glared coldly into Dean, making everyone in the room uncomfortable in the silence, until she gave in to Dean’s logic but made it so she was the one thought of it first.

“Get her out of my sight. She’s your problem now, so do what you do best and get rid of these hunters like you promised.” She pushed past all the men in to get to her room. “No one bother me until Derik gets back.” She ordered before finally disappearing.

Dean gave a sigh of relief once she was gone, and eyed the girl on the floor. Hunter, hmm? She looked a little small to be dangerous, but Dean knew from experience that looks can be deceiving. He knelt down and picked up the light body, and put her effortlessly over his shoulder and stood up, beginning to make his way back down to the basement.

“What you gonna do with her? Can I help?” Blade asked eagerly.

“Get rest. Sun will be up. If you really want to be useful, don’t bother me.” Dean uttered, and took the human down the stairs and tied her to one of the wooden columns maintaining the structure of the house. Now he could finally get a good look at her.

She had shoulder length chestnut brown hair, silky to the touch, but the cut was slightly shaggy. Now that he saw her, she looked young, but not young enough to be called a girl anymore. She was probably in her early twenties.

Dean tried to go through the motions of identifying his prey, but he couldn’t help but notice how distracted he was by her smell and the melody of her relaxed heartbeat. Of course, the only reason it was relaxed was because she was knocked out.

He decided to return to the shadows and continue cleaning his knives and guns until she awoke, for he could already feel himself start to turn to his predatory instincts rather than his common sense. He still needed information from the hunter, and once he set his mind to something, nothing got in his way.

Sam woke to complete darkness other than a sliver of light that pierced through the room from a poorly boarded up window. It felt like a dream what with the smell of mildew and wood, and the confusion of where she was. But what really set her off was that she was being held upright from her hands being banded together behind her.

She began to thrash against the ropes as the memories flooded back to her about the night before and how she had been captured by the vampire woman and used as a hostage so they could flee from Gordon and the rest of them. What Sam really questioned was how (or why) she’d been kept alive this long. She didn’t want to stick around long enough to hear the answer, that’s for sure.

As if right on cue, Sam saw the outline of a tall, well-built man make his way out from the darkness and stalk towards her slowly. Sam forced herself to stop trying to rid herself of the ropes, and focused more on appearing calm in front of the enemy. This wasn’t her first rodeo, and Sam knew how to stay alive long enough behind enemy lines in order to either escape or get saved.

“Well look who decided to wake up.” A low voice laughed, and it sent chills through Sam’s spine.

“Sorry, getting knocked out isn’t my favorite thing either.” Sam returned.

“Hey now, that wasn’t me. You’re the one who ticked off Trisha.”

“Where is she now?”

“None of your concern. All you need to know is that I’m in charge of you now, and if you don’t behave, it will be out of the frying pan and into the fire.” He threatened, but his tone was never anything but casual.

Sam gulped, but kept staring at the outline of his head, not quite able to see his face. He stepped forward into the light and she saw hints of a smirk on his face, and shocking green eyes that examined Sam like a kid with a new toy.

“So let’s get started. I’m Dean. What’s your name?”

Sam squirmed against the column she was tied to in an attempt to get farther away from her captor, really not enjoying how close he was to her.

“Why do you care?”

“Maybe I like to know who my next meal is.”

Sam let one curt laugh escape her lips. “That’s not going to happen. I’m Sam, Sam Winchester.”

Dean had to admit, he was a bit taken aback to hear that he actually had one of _the_ Winchesters tied up in his basement, this definitely peaked his interest more than if she had been some regular hunter.

“A Winchester, huh? Tell me, are you afraid?”

“No.”

“Really.” He knelt down on the ground and rested his arm right above Sam’s head and his other arm on the other side of her. He could hear her heart pick up its pace the closer he got, and he didn’t leave much space between them. “Even though I could drink you dry at any second?”

Sam glanced at his lips to see any protruding fangs, but she saw none. He is playing her, seeing how far he can push her. _He’s not the only one who can play the intimidation game._

“That’s what other monsters thought they could do to me. You should ask that how that turned out for them.” Sam kept her tone even, but was more than frazzled by his closeness and his breath on her neck.

He laughed, and pulled away. Sam was grateful for her personal space back, but he only got up to get himself a chair and stared down at Sam making her feel smaller than she already was.

“Sorry, you know, I’d get you one too but you look a little tied up at the moment.”

“Bite me.”

“Don’t tempt me.” He grinned wickedly, making Sam regret her comeback. “So how many hunters are you working with?”

“Just three others.” Sam answered honestly, knowing that the blonde would be able to confirm it anyway.

“What other hunters know about your case?”

 “Your Alpha killed Daniel Elkins. How many people do you think know where we are?”

“Trisha is not my Alpha. And I’d be damned if this was my nest.”

What was a rogue vampire doing with a nest who just killed a major hunter? Usually that would set of huge red flags, meaning that hunters would come swarming to avenge his death and kill anything with fangs or claws. Most monsters would hightail it out of the state. But not this one… why?

“If this isn’t your nest, then why don’t you just save yourself and get out of here?”

“I owe a friend a favor. He asked me to use my… special skills to deal with his hunter problem.”

“So you hunt… hunters.” Sam stated sarcastically. She couldn’t help it, but the thought of being hunted by the vermin they were meant to exterminate just seemed strange to think about.

“You’d be surprised to see what I’m capable of. My past makes me… very equipped to deal with people like you. Those who only see black and white. Are you so ignorant to think that there is only right and wrong?” Dean moved off his chair, looming dangerously over Sam again. “Hunters leave no room for the imagination, of compromise and gray areas. If something is the least bit ‘Tainted’ or ‘Sullied’ by darkness, you kill it and ask questions later.” His anger became apparent, though Sam didn’t feel like it was all directed at her. He knelt down in front of her, and put his arms on both sides of her to balance himself. “Do not bother telling me I don’t know what I’m talking about. I know far too well how hunters think.” He finished as his gaze scrutinized her for a reaction.

Sam couldn’t bear to look into those pools of green without the fear of completely falling into them. He was wrong. She belonged in the gray. She was a freak who was too clean to lurk in the darkness, but too stained to stay in the light. She didn’t belong anywhere, and whatever solace she could find was ripped away from her because of the demon that killed her mother. Why she was chosen, Sam had no idea, and she felt weak and helpless against the pulls and pushes of that monster against her. All she had ever wanted was to be normal, but even in the hunter world she was considered an abomination.

Dean saw Sam’s eyebrows knit together and her soft pink lips form a line in what he interpreted as frustration and self-turmoil. He could tell she was hiding something by the way she turned her head to avoid his stare. _There might be more to her than I can read between the lines…_

But the bad move on her part was that she completely bared her neck to a vampire. Being so close to her scent of sandalwood and lavender and her warmth had a dizzying effect on Dean and he had to fight his urges to stay in control. That didn’t mean, though, that he wouldn’t allow himself to be led by his instincts a little bit during his interrogation.

Before Sam had realized her mistake, Dean’s lips hovered over her ear, and whispered “What is your secret? What are you trying to hide?”

Sam’s eyes went wide. She dared not move. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking abou- ah…” chilled lips brushed the skin under her ear and trailed down the vein on her throat, making every one of her hairs stand on end. He kept doing this, the act resembling kisses, but Sam knew what he was really doing.

She writhed beneath him, but he used his muscled arms to hold her still, something she could do nothing about. She didn’t beg him to stop until she felt the sharp teeth begin to trace her sensitive skin. “Wait! Please… don’t.” Sam took shallow breaths that didn’t ease her panic, and all she could think about was how Dean smelled like leather and cinnamon and how tightly he was pressed against her.

Sam was the embodiment of temptation for Dean, the way her soft skin felt like velvet against his lips. Not only did he wonder if she tasted as good as she smelled, but also if her lips were just as soft. One step at a time. He bared his teeth, ready to sink in, but just before he did, she went limp and hung her head. He pulled away and released his grip on her so he could see her face. Sam’s eyes were tightly shut and she bit her lip as if she were in pain. She flinched slightly.

“What’s wrong?”

“M-migraine.” She uttered out with difficulty.

Dean hesitated with disappointment, but stood eventually. He wasn’t going to taste her… not yet at least. His daze was broken the second he she wilted, and for a reason he knew not of, he was worried. He convinced himself he wasn’t going soft, but that he just wasn’t in the mood anymore.

“Rest. We’ll talk more when you wake up.” Dean stated before making his way up the stairs.

Sam could barely hear him over the sound of yelling and shouting in her head. She blinked to wipe away the colliding images rushing before her eyes, but of course it was to no avail. Her visions were always like this, a jumble of pictures and sounds that didn’t make sense to her. Then, she heard a voice. _His_ voice.

_Oh no, did my little bird get caught in a cage?_

Leave me alone.

_Oh, little bird, don’t you know? You have no power here._

And with that, Sam collapsed into a deep sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to Kudos if you liked it! I love constructive criticism too :)


	3. The Attack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the update! Enjoy, and don't forget to comment! 
> 
> Sorry this Chapter is a bit shorter, but posting on Sundays is going to be my thang now :P And the part I'm planning for next chapter I want to spend some time on, but I also wanted to keep you guys happy. So there you have it. Yep. That's all I got. Okay, I'm going to stop talking.

Gordon signaled Kubrick to break the lock of the backdoor to the old farmhouse. He was positive Sam was being kept in the basement, and most of the blood suckers were asleep. One easy kill after the next. Sam would be the first to go, and Gordon felt slightly conflicted about it, not because of its morality, but because of how he would tell Bobby. Kubrick drugged his beer when he wasn’t looking, so that’s why they weren’t graced with the presence of the older hunter.

Gordon finally decided that whatever happened, he would tell Bobby that his beloved demon girl was already dead when they got there, and he and Kubrick valiantly avenged her untimely demise. So far, that was the plan.

It’s funny how things don’t always go to plan.

Sam was being forced to watch images of people falling victim to some sort of incurable virus that spread throughout the country. Azazel told her that all of this would happen because of her, and he said it like she should be proud. All it made her feel was sick to her stomach with the guilt of something she never did. She willed herself to wake up, but she knew she wouldn’t. Her dreams were prisoner to the yellow-eyed demon, and the only way she would be able to snap out of it was if she was awoken by somebody else.

And sure enough, her prayers were answered. Her night terror was broken, but only at the cost of awakening to a brat child vampire. Sam lazily tried to focus her hazel eyes on the teenage boy in front of her jabbering away, but all she could process was how exhausted from sleep she was.

“What d’you say?” she slurred, attempting to break out of her trance.

The boy frowned with frustration.

“I _said_ that I am Blade. And you have disrespected my Alpha, and for that you will pay.”

Sam was so uninvolved in this conversation, it was hard to even fake that she cared. All she wanted was to sleep and stay awake at the same time to outrun her dreams. Scratch that, she wanted above all for this kid to shut up.

“-Think you know everything, but you don’t. Hunters need to be put in their place. Maybe once if I kill you, Dean will respect me. Maybe-guh!”

Sam gasped as a machete sliced through the neck of the teenager with blood splattering the floor in front of her like abstract art and the head rolling off to the side of the room. Sam was definitely alert now. Gordon and Kubrick emerged from the shadows revealing their glum expressions and bloodied weapons. Sam kicked the body away, and Kubrick helped get it away from her. Relief overwhelmed Sam’s senses.

“Thanks. Jeez, took you guys long enough.” She smiled and got no reply. She swallowed, feeling a bit awkward. “So… you going to untie me? It’s just rope, so-“

“Cut the crap, Sam.” Gordon snapped.

“What?” Sam asked shakily.

“We know what you are, freak. You’re going to start the apocalypse with a horde of demons under your control.”

“Where on earth did you hear that?”

“Doesn’t matter, all I know is that you can’t be a hunter and have demon blood running through your veins.”

Sam could feel herself lose color in her face. This could not be happening. Sure Gordon was an ass and he hated her, but she couldn’t possibly imagine him killing her. And how did he know anything about the demon blood? Only Bobby and Dad knew about it.

“Gordon, you’ve got it all wrong. You know me, I wouldn’t start the apocalypse! I’m just as much a hunter as you are.”

“Hunters save people Sammy, and what you’re plotting to do to the world with your yellow-eyed demon will destroy everyone.”

Gordon was beyond reason. His eyes gave away his urge to kill like a fire emanating heat.

“Kubrick, tell me you don’t believe this. You’re a godly man, you can’t justify killing a fellow hunter.” Sam pleaded.

His eyes were sad, but unwavering. “Sorry Sam, but it is God’s will. I am honoring Him by doing this. We will try to make it painless.”

Sam saw- or thought she saw- movement in the shadows behind Gordon and Kubrick. Her heat beat fast with anger and fear. She was utterly helpless to defend herself against the men she never thought she had to. Killed by hunters while tied to a rotting post. This was not the way she envisioned herself going out.

“This should knock you out.” Gordon stepped forward and wielded the butt of his gun at Sam’s head, and it didn’t put her out, but it hurt like hell.

And then everything happened so fast.

Just as soon as Gordon had struck her, he screamed in agony. Sam dizzily looked up to see the black man struggling against a Dean ripping at his throat with sharp fangs from behind. Dean had Gordon’s arms locked, and his gun kicked away.

Kubrick raised his rifle to aim it at the vampire and pulled the trigger, but right before the bullets were to hit him he pivoted and used Gordon as a shield. Gordon shook as each bullet entered his chest, and his own blood soaked his clothes.

Seeing that Gordon was a bloody mess and no longer a threat, Dean unceremoniously shoved him to the ground and focused on his next prey. The church man. He shook in fear while trying to load the rifle before the vampire could come any closer, but that was no use against Dean’s speed. He kicked the hunter to the wall and rushed to him before he fell, Kubrick’s balance completely lost which gave Dean the upper hand.

Before the hunter had any time to react, the vampire sunk his teeth into the nape of his neck and tore as much skin as he could. The blood flowed like a river out of the wound and covered Dean’s mouth and down his neck. Soon enough, the man stopped struggling and his heart beat no longer. Dean released the body, and it fell in a lifeless heap onto the ground.

He checked the room for any other attackers, but the only other heartbeat he heard was the one that belonged to little Sammy Winchester who was still securely tied to the post. Her hazel eyes were wide as she looked at the blood and gore in front of her. He would have guessed that she was in shock until she opened her mouth and monotonously stated “They were going to kill me.”

He turned and walked toward her while attempting to wipe the red deliciousness off his face, the blood buzzing within him felt almost euphoric the way it always does after a good meal.

“You need to get better friends.”

She laughed in agreement. He grinned back as he looked her over, and became greedily aware of the cut on her head and the blood trickling down her face. She must have felt the change of the mood because her eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“What?”

“You’ve got quite a scratch there.” He pointed to her head. She went directly into defense mode by the way she straightened her shoulders and held very still.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Hey, is that any way to treat the guy who just saved your life?” Dean asked as he got down on his knees beside her. He reached to touch her hair and she jerked her head to avoid him.

“Oh calm down, I’m not gonna bite.” He rolled his eyes. She glared at him and looked at his mouth. “See? No teeth.” He assured and he retracted his fangs leaving only his dull human ones.

“Haven’t you had enough?” Sam mumbled as Dean just ghosted his lips over her cheek where the trickle was the smallest.

“That was the meal. You’re dessert.” Dean said finally before he gently pressed his lips over the red liquid.

Sam inhaled quietly, but held still. Dean’s taste buds exploded with a pleasure he’d never felt before as he traced the trickle to the source very slowly to absorb the sensation. He wanted to lick every drop off her smooth skin leisurely, so he could revel in the experience. He felt so mindless as his tongue traced the wound, catching any sort of blood that might ooze out.

His body relaxed in a way it had never done before when he tasted blood. Usually the scent or taste would push him into a frenzy and it was a frantic rush to consume as much as he possibly could. But with Sam… he didn’t want to rush it. For some reason her blood just gave his senses an overload, tempting him to want more. It was hypnotizing…

Sam unconsciously bit her lip as Dean worked his way to the cut on her head. She knew that her circumstances were terrifying, but still she couldn’t help thinking about how Dean’s lips felt on her cheek. No one had touched her like that since Jesse.

 _Snap out of it. It’s just my blood he’s after._ Sam tried to tell herself, but that did nothing against the wave of loneliness she suddenly felt. It had been a year since Jesse died and she had moved on, but she wasn’t about to deny that she didn’t still miss him from time to time.

Dean lapped at the wound now, and surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as much as Sam would have thought. She closed her eyes thinking time would pass faster if she did but it only reminded her of the darkness she was already surrounded by. That was when she felt the pricks of Dean’s fangs against her skin instead of his human teeth.

“Hey, stop. You promised no teeth.”

He didn’t seem to hear her as he kept scraping her temple sluggishly.

“Ow!” Sam cried. She decided she wasn’t going to play victim anymore, so she kneed his in his side as hard she could.

Of course it didn’t hurt him, but it at least knocked him out of his daze. He looked at her with unfocused, half closed eyes. Sam didn’t like to admit it, but his green eyes reminded her of a field of alpha alpha on a summer day.

“You look high.” She stated at him bluntly, not giving him the power to scare her.

He seemed to come to his senses, and he shook his head as if to rid himself of being dizzy.

“Wow. You taste-“

“I don’t want to know.” Sam cut him off. She really didn’t. That blood, like Gordon said, was tainted.

He seemed different as he stood, like he was rejuvenated or something. He began looking around the room, and at the mess he had to clean up. Sam noticed.

“I’d help clean up but… I’m a little tied up at the moment.” Sam quipped and Dean laughed.

“I just have to look at the bright side. Two hunters down, one annoying vampire gone, and I got to taste a little bit of heaven. Doesn’t sound like too bad of a day.”

“Well aren’t you the optimist.” Sam remarked as she thought about how it wasn’t heaven that Dean tasted in her blood.

Dean picked up one of the bodies and began walking to the back door.

“By the way Sammy, when I’m done… we’re gonna have a nice long chat about what I heard down here.”

Sam went cold.

“How much did you hear?”

“Plenty.”

This was not going to be good.

 


	4. The Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4! Keep commenting! I always love input :)

Sam tried to keep her breathing paced as she cut through the rope that bound her wrists. She had a switch blade safely packed in a pocket of her combat boot that came in very handy for situations like this. Of course, she also had an assortment of weapons in her brown coat, but she couldn’t reach any of them tied up and Dean knew that.

She was on her knees, pulling at the ropes as she cut them. She needed to free herself by the time Dean got back. All the bodies were being disposed of, and Sam didn’t care to know how. The urgency to get away from all the vampires seemed multiplied with the threat of being questioned about her tie with demons. Sam could barely accept the information herself, how was she to try and explain it to someone else? Let alone that someone else being a _vampire_.

_Come on!_ The ropes finally gave in, and Sam’s hands were free. In a hurried rush, she rose to her feet and bolted up the rickety stairs. Dean had been using the back door, so she thought she could avoid him by going out the other exit. She was so close! The taste of freedom was so tantalizing it seemed like a dream. It might as well have been because the creaking door opened while Sam was in the middle of the stair case.

She stood dead in her tracks, like a deer in headlights while Dean’s confusion melted away to amusement. Quicker than a heartbeat, Sam attempted to run back down the stairs and see if she could make it to the back door before her captor could stop her. Dean just grinned wickedly at the thrill of the hunt.

Secretly, Dean was overwhelmed with the chance to finally see the Winchester in combat. He was itching to know whether or he would see her as prey or a threat. He was dying to know. Dean jumped the off the stairs completely and by the time he gracefully reached the ground Sam was in the middle of the room. He couldn’t help but think how adorable it was that she thought she could outrun him.

He grabbed her from behind and heard her grunt from the unexpected impact, and she thrashed wildly as he lifted her small frame off the ground as her legs kicked. Similar to the sensation making a toddler go down for a nap. A sharp pain embedded in Dean’s arm and he unknowingly loosened his grip on the Winchester. She wriggled out from beneath his grasp and put a distance between them before turning to face him with a small, bloodied knife in her hand.

The look of determination was intense on Sam’s face. Dean looked to his wound and back to the small hunter with an expression to portray that he was impressed. This time, Sam was the one to hit first. She kicked him in the stomach, while bringing her fist to his face with the knife tightly held. Dean knew that if the blade touched him, he’d have a scar that would look like he was smiling ear to ear. So with lightning fast reflexes, he dodged his head back and took her small wrist in his hand and yanked her forward putting her back to his chest.

Dean knew she had more weapons in her jacket, so he quickly grabbed the collar of the coat and pulled it off her back. As expected, she still held fast to the knife in her hand as he saw it coming right for him. He couldn’t dodge it fast enough this time, but he at least got far enough away that it was only a scratch on his cheek.

With shock, Dean had lost his balance for once and began to fall backwards. Sam took advantage and jumped on top of him, letting her bodyweight help gravity do its job. By the time they hit the floor, Sam was straddling his waist and her free hand was in his hair pulling his head back while she brought the knife to his neck. She wished she had her machete instead of a pocket knife to do the job, knowing that the whole ordeal was going to be messy.

With a vicious growl, Dean grabbed both her arms and twisted his body so that he was on top. Dean would never admit it, but for a second he saw death in those two beautiful hazel eyes. Sam squirmed violently knowing that she only had a few seconds before he pinned her entirely. She wrapped her leg around his and in a last attempt she was going to hit him with her other knee and use that momentum to turn the tables once again in this wrestling match.

Dean saw this coming, and swiftly removed his legs from her grasp and pinned her like the way she did to him. _Payback_. She yelped slightly as he grabbed her wrists and forced her to release the knife. Once she did, he threw it away from anywhere near her hold. Sam was panting from the excursion and also from her new fear, but much to Dean’s surprise, he was too. It felt like reward enough to hold Sam down like this, the feeling of winning the fight. He hadn’t had a good tumble like this in a long while, at least, none that had the possibility of his own demise. Dean was always considered strange with his morbid obsession with tempting Death.

Sam still struggled underneath his grip, clinging to the false hope she still had a chance of getting out. Dean let out a ghost of a smile in between his breaths, the way a lion looks over a captured zebra before the inevitable. Dean looked her over, thinking he’s won but Sam knows the fight is never over until your opponent is in a grave. Still, she can’t help but feel like a butterfly that was pinned down and laid on display.

“You ready to play nice?” he taunted.

“As long as you are.” She replied grudgingly.

“Well I’m not promising anything until I know you’re unarmed.” He grinned that suggestive grin as Sam began to know. An idea bloomed in her mind, a terrible one, but an idea none the less.

“I don’t have anything on me.”

“We’ll see.” He loosened his grip in her overall, knowing she wouldn’t try anything, but still hovered over her. She sat up a little bit on her elbows, but that was all he allowed.

His hand went to her ankle, and he slowly trailed his hand up her leg to feel for any sort of knife. Sam wasn’t lying when she said she didn’t have a weapon in her, and that was the problem. If she didn’t have anything, maybe Dean did. If so, she could use it against him and overpower him with his own knife. Dean traced her other leg. If he did have a knife, and if she was going to get it, she needed a distraction. Sometimes, she hates her ideas. She forces herself to relax before she has the chance to panic, otherwise it would give her away completely.

She feels Dean’s strong hands her hips now, and notices how his black undershirt looked like it was painted to his muscular body and how she wondered how she never noticed it before. She must have ripped a button off his pale green over shirt during their scrimmage. Gently, she reached up with one hand and held onto the collar of his shirt and closed her eyes as she brought her parted lips to his mouth.

His wandering hands stopped looking for any weapon, and he held as still as stone. Sam wondered how long he was going to stay that way and if she had only just made a fool of herself, but just then his lips gave way and he responded to her movements.

At first Sam was repulsed by the idea of having to kiss him, thinking like it would be like kissing dead flesh, but in reality it was more like kissing someone who just came out of a winter storm. She wouldn’t dream of admitting it, but it was… enjoyable in contrast to her warmth.

She pushed forward, ever so slightly so that she could sit up, and Dean willingly obliged. She nipped at his lower lip, and the quietest of a moan escaped him. Gradually, the kiss became more necessary and passionate. At that point Dean carefully parted Sam’s lips slipped in his tongue, and it was perfect. Not rushed whatsoever despite what their bodies’ movement portrayed. Sam moved in closer returning the action, but she still wasn’t close enough. Dean could notice, and without any difficulty he pulled her toward him so that she was on his lap.

_Now was her chance_. She held onto his shoulders enjoying the pull and tug of their mouths and the way he held onto her back. They took small breaks so Sam could sneak in breaths. Her hands traced his neck, and lowered to his chest, and then to his waist. He pulled her closer, which gave her more chance to reach behind him to his lower back where she triumphantly felt the wooden handle of a knife. She prolonged the kiss until she had a subtle, but firm grip on the knife.

Then in one swift movement, she abruptly ended the embrace and brought the knife to his throat. Now that she saw it, it was a beautiful blade. It was long and sharp, the blade had ridges cut into with and symbols that traced the silver. Dean looked up at her with shock and while his lips were still pursed. It almost made her feel sorry. Almost.

She leaned forward dangerously, the knife securely to his throat showing she meant business.

“Whoa, whoa. Take it easy.” He smiled bringing up his hands, trying to conceal his fear.

She pushed him down and in doing so the blade drew a small amount of his blood. Sam couldn’t help but notice the strength the blade seemed to give her. She knew it was all in her head, she wasn’t any physically stronger than she was a minute ago, but the knife made her confident. And it slipped so easily into Dean’s skin. But she wasn’t sure if it was because of the knife she heard buzzing in the background.

“Careful! That is a very special blade.” He winced under its pressure

“I can tell. Will it kill you any easier than a regular knife?” she asked casually, enjoying her new come to power over the intimidating vampire.

“It’s meant to kill… demons.”

With that the buzzing grew to a roar. It overcame her like crashing waves in all directions, the noise so high-pitched she thought it would break the glass. Sam felt like the noise was forcing its way into her head with the intention of making it explode. She dropped the knife and in a weak attempt to staunch the cacophony she raised her hands to her head.

_Ready for a chit chat, little bird?_

Go to hell.

_Been there, done that._

What do you want?

_Just wanted to give you a heads up is all._

About what?

A collision of images were shown to her. Majority of them being pictures of Bobby lying lifelessly on the hotel floor with a knife in his back, and Azazel standing over him.

No!

_Don’t worry, it hasn’t happened yet. But it will soon._

Please, it’s me you want! Leave Bobby out of this!

_See you soon little bird._

The silent uproar ceased to nothing, and Sam opened her teary eyes to a pale green sky. A few moments passed before she realized that those green skies belonged to Dean. As she came to, she felt his arms wrapped around her protectively and it made her wonder how long she had been unconscious. With disappointment, she realized the demon blade was nowhere to be seen. Helpless again, just as she always was.

“What the hell was that?” Dean asked, concern etched in his face for a reason Sam couldn’t fathom.

She broke her gaze from him and began to shamefully wipe away her tears. Never has she allowed others to see her cry, it was a sign of weakness, and John never allowed that. Dean gently shook her, as if to get her attention.

“Hey, talk to me. You just passed out, and looked like you were talking to someone.”

Sam composed herself and looked back up at him. “How much do you know about demons?”

How much did Dean know? More than he’d like to. They had plagued his life all the way back to when he was human, constantly hunting or outrunning them. Only one thing did seem clear to Dean, whatever he went through with the bastards didn’t hold a candle to what Sam was going through with them. He was determined to get to the bottom of this mystery.

“I’ve had to mess around with them here and there.” He replied.

“Well, apparently I am supposed to lead those twisted, soulless monsters and start the apocalypse.” Sam confessed. “I’ve been told it’s my destiny, and that I don’t have a choice.” She swallowed. “It’s a terrible feeling, you know? Knowing that ever since you were born your whole existence has been predetermined, and all the people I care about most suffer just because they’re associated with me.”

Dean frowned as memories flowed through his head as he pondered on the hunter’s words. Memories from how he had been turned and the reasons why, the importance, the _necessity_ of why he became a creature of the night haunted him. As he held the shaking Sam Winchester, he saw himself back when he was human. He saw his own fear of what would become of his own destiny and the roles he had to fill for his life’s purpose. His future had been predetermined too, that is, until he said “Fuck it” and took life into his own hands.

“There is always a choice.” Dean whispered, as if talking from another world.

Sam smiled in disbelief. “Right. Because if I used the ‘Free will’ I supposedly had, I wouldn’t have had my mother killed from trying to protect me, and the demon wouldn’t have even be there in the first place trying to feed me its blood.”

Dean flinched at the image, but now he was compelled to know more.

“There is demon blood that runs through my veins, and it’s been there since the night my mother died. Burned to the ceiling, it’s what the yellow-eyed demon does. How he kills his victims.” There was a pause. “So I am bound to the demon that did this, and he tortures me with visions of the future. Some things I can change, but some things I can’t and to know the difference could drive me insane.” Sam put a hand to her face to conceal the light tears that cascaded down her cheeks from her eyes. “Sometimes I think I am insane.”

Dean let the silence dominate the room as he focused on holding Sam close, consoling her as much he could. He forced himself to look over the déjà vu that overpowered his thoughts from Sam’s words. The similarities from her story to his were almost identical to his, only his side involved the intrusive and demanding angels. It made him wonder if fate had forced its way back into Dean’s life and made him meet Sam. Was she the other half of the prophecy he was meant to fulfill?

He shook his head. That was behind him. No one else had control over his destiny but himself. That was the prize he had from paying the price with his human life.

“You have to let me go.” Sam’s small voice interrupted Dean’s thoughts.

“Why would I do that?” Dean had almost forgotten that Sam was his prisoner, and had to remind himself.

“The demon is going to kill a friend of mine. I have to stop him.”

“If I let you go, Trisha and the rest of her brood would kill you and your friend before nightfall. And that wouldn’t serve anyone.” Dean stated honestly. But she just stared up at him pleadingly with those big puppy eyes that were hard to ignore. He felt his walls crumbling down with each second he held her gaze. With a sigh, he gave in. “I could give your friend a message to get out of town, but that’s it.”

She smiled with relief, but then skepticism settled it.

“Why are you going to help me?”

“Your story… reminds me of my own. I’m not sure why, but I will discover the answer. Besides, I know what it’s like to lose someone you love. What it’s like to lose everyone.” His thoughts drifted away like ripped up paper in the wind. “My own people tried to kill me after I had made the change. I hadn’t even touched blood before they started throwing steal at me from all directions.” He laughed bitterly. “But hey, what else could I expect from a bunch of hunters? What I’m trying to say is… I understand the feeling of having no one on your side. No one who’s got your back from the entire world attacking you.”

Sam’s eyes were huge as she looked up at him. “You were a hunter?”

Dean grinned at her incredulous gaze, enjoying the way she looked so innocent. “I think that’s enough of the 20 question game.” He lifted her up and she jolted from the unexpected movement, but he didn’t let her fall. He brought her back to the post she escaped from, but instead of rope, he had hand cuffs. “Now, please don’t try to get out of these. Making you stay chained up here is the only thing keeping you alive, especially if I’m making a trip into town.”

“Fine.” She sighed as the click of the cuffs locked into place. She would have rather he took her with him, but not everything could be done her way.

Just as Dean was about to leave, he couldn’t help but make a remark about the kiss they shared. He knew she only meant it to be a distraction- and damn, was it ever- he couldn’t help but feel a little more meaning beneath the surface.

“Quick question, Sammy. Do you kiss all the scary monsters out there, or am I the exception?”

Her mouth hung open and her face turned bright red. She must not have had a good comeback, because all she did was kick a chair in his direction. He chuckled as he made his way up the stairs with the Impala’s car keys in his hand.


	5. The Possesion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize to all for my inability to post consistently! I appreciate everyone sticking with me, and your support means a lot to me. I am excited to write following chapters :)
> 
> I wish everyone happy holidays!

The sun was sinking into the cornfields as the loud Impala pulled into the crappy motel parking lot. Once he had parked, Dean pulled off his aviators and stepped outside. He paused a moment to inhale the scents around him and filter out which one belonged to Sam Winchester. Finally he found it, but sadly it wasn’t as pure as in person; Whisky and sawdust almost overpowered her delicate but rich scent.

He followed the trail that led him to room 120, and he listened to find only one slow heartbeat. This must have been her friend. He opened the door, surprised that it hadn’t been locked, and entered the room to find an old man lying on the bed passed out with a bottle of beer on the nightstand. Dean approached the bed when he noticed a rather unsettling scent coming from the bottle. _Rohypnol_ , or more commonly known as the “date-rape” drug. The two others must have done that to him to keep him from interfering with their slaughter.

Dean promptly disarmed the unconscious hunter before attempting to wake him up. It took a couple of tries, but a good slap to the face seemed to do the trick.

“W-what the hell! What’s going on?!”

“Awake, awake sleeping beauty.” Dean smiled down as he gripped the old man’s shirt.

“Who the hell are you?” he slurred out. He tried reaching for his pistol, but Dean had already taken it off the bed. The hunter then began to try throwing punches.

“Just a messenger. Who is going to snap your neck if you don’t stop moving.” Dean threatened as he extended his fangs.

“Where is Gordon and Kubrick? What did you do to them?”

“Dead. Though, in my defense, they had it coming. I wouldn’t suspect you’d be so concerned, being that they were the ones who drugged and left you here in the first place.”

Confusion rolled over the man’s facial expressions, eventually turning to disbelief. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Look out the window gramps. The sun is almost set. Your head is pounding. The last thing you probably remember is one of your pals handing you a beer to calm your senses while you all come up with a plan on how to save your precious Winchester.”

Bobby couldn’t believe what this monster was trying to tell him. He could definitely tell that he’d been drugged, but it couldn’t have been from Gordon and Kubrick? Well, Gordon maybe, crazy son of a bitch. But not Kubrick, he was pretty level headed as hunter standards go. And why would they have the need to drug him? They wouldn’t leave without him to rescue Sam.

“Sam? I swear, if you so much as lay a hand on her…!”

“Oh don’t give yourself a heart attack, she’s fine. Little bit of a spitfire, but nothing I can’t handle.”

Bobby glared viciously at the pretty boy vampire.

“What do you want then, Hotshot? You said you had a message?”

The vampire’s green eyes brightened as a grin began to form. “One hunter is enough for this little town. I suggest you hit the road before you end up just like Mr. Crazy and Bible-boy. Bloody, and six feet underground.”

“Well if you’re stupid enough to think that I’d leave this dumpy town without Sam, you’re a lot dumber than I thought.” Bobby shot back.

“Look you old geezer,” the vampire’s cold hand gripped Bobby’s throat “this is your get out of jail free card. I was planning on just killing you, but your Winchester friend begged me to let you go. Don’t make me regret being merciful.” Bobby was turning red with the struggle for oxygen. “We’ll release the hostage once you leave state, but if one word goes out to any of your friends about where we are, let’s just say a snack might be in order. Capisce?”

Bobby’s eyes rolled back and his head began to fall, but right before he could pass out, the bloodsucker released him. He coughed gasped for air as the black dots began to fade away from his vision. Slowly but surely his equilibrium stabilized itself but the parasite was already at the door, no time for Bobby to reach his dead man’s blood and shoot him with it.

“You leave tonight.” Was the last thing he said as he began to walk out the door, but not before he stole one of Bobby’s messenger bags. Then, it was only the hunter alone with his shock in the cheap room. He was lucky to escape with his life, he could care less about one bag. Why the vamp wanted his holy water, salt and spray paint was beyond him.

He ran to the window just in time to see a black Chevy Impala take off into the night; Bobby took mental note of which direction it was heading before frantically searching for his cell phone through a stack of papers on the table. This hunt wasn’t supposed to go sour, a simple search and destroy was all it was. And of course, the retrieval of the Colt. How could it turn so badly?

He swore he would protect Sam, and he would. He blocked out the useless feeling of guilt as he dialed the numbers into his phone. All Sam wanted was to get away from John, just for a week at least. That rebellious soul couldn’t take being chained down for so long. So of course, she jumped at the chance to help Bobby with the case, anything to get space to breathe. John reluctantly let her go because he knew the Colt belonged to Elkins, and that gun could help them kill the yellow-eyed demon if they got their hands on it. Bobby knew John trusted him with his only daughter, and he would fix this. But in order to do so, he needed his help.

“Hello?”

“John… you need to get here. Stock up your dead man’s blood supply, and meet me outside Manning, Colorado. Sam’s in trouble.”

 

~*~*~*~*

 

Sam worked at unlocking the metal cuffs on her wrists for the umpteenth time, but to no avail. Frustration was boiling up, and she was afraid she was going to explode from anger. She knew that she promised to sit still for Dean, but hey, old habits die hard. And who even has cop cuffs just lying around? _Kinky bastard_. Sam rolled her eyes. She could only think that Trisha would come downstairs and beat the living crap out of her for the vampire teen’s death, and to be honest, she was getting really annoyed with being locked up. Cages never suited Sam.

She hoped that Bobby left willingly and without a struggle, but she knew him better than that. The old man was like her second father and he had probably spat out a few wisecracks to Dean. She took a breath to calm her thoughts. At least he would be out of the Hotel, and away from the Yellow Eyed Demon. All Sam could hope for was that Dean didn’t have a temper and that he didn’t lash out at Bobby. But realistically, Dean was a vampire… a monster, and all monsters were the same.

_Are they though?_ An rare optimistic thought popped into Sam’s mind. She tried to shoo it away with the memory of how he ripped apart Kubrick and Gordon and seemed to enjoy it. _He did it to protect you._ Sam stilled her movement with this inner turmoil going on in her mind. She hated, absolutely _loathed_ to admit it, but Dean did seem to be different. What was it about him? It wasn’t just that he was uncommon for a vampire, sticking around a nest that was targeted by hunters. It wasn’t just that he had been a hunter before he was turned, it was something else. He seemed… familiar. Like Sam was meant to find him or something crazy like that.

“Thinking about your boyfriend?” a smoky feminine voice spoke from behind Sam.

Sam jerked around at the voice expecting to see Trisha, but instead a short-haired blonde with a red leather jacket was leaning against the back door frame. Another vampire? No… Sam could smell sulfur.

“Demon.” Sam clarified. “What are you doing here? Who are you?”

“Names Meg. And I think we have the potential to be really good friends.”

Sam scoffed and looked at her like she was crazy. She simply shrugged innocently.

“Oh well, I tried. Look Sam, here’s the deal. Upstairs little Mrs. Munster is just putting together that the kid vamp is dead, and she is pissed. Soon, she’ll just buzz down here and squash you like a bug. You follow?”

“Yeah. Sure. Why would you want to help me?”

“Oh honey I don’t _want_ to help you, I _want_ to kill you. But you’re Daddy’s favorite, so I can’t do that.”

There was an angry cry upstairs and Sam’s heart jumped at the sound. She didn’t have time to deal with this demon bitch’s jealousy crap.

“Fine, you can’t let me get hurt. Then help me, break the cuffs.”

“That’s not quite what I had in mind sugar.” She pulled a knife out and used it to take off Sam’s demon-warding necklace that Bobby had given her. “Cause from my perspective, what’s to stop you from killing me while we take down the vamps?”

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundo-!” the demon’s hand clamped painfully over Sam’s mouth while she thrashed violently.

“Nice try. Open wide, Sammy, we’re gonna get some time to know each other real well.” She chuckled.

Sam tried to scream, but black smoke filled the room and choked Sam before she got the chance. She tried to keep out the demon with her will alone, but eventually… her body felt like it wasn’t even hers anymore. She flinched from pain when Meg broke the metal cuffs by just yanking on them. Sam was a prisoner in her own body now.

“Alright Sammy… enjoy the show.” Sam heard her own voice say as she felt her lips move, but never had she felt so numb in her life.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Dean stuck around and watched the old man throw his things into a rusty pickup truck. Not even fifteen minutes had passed before the hunter was all packed up and zooming out of town. Once he was completely out of sight, Dean drove out of his hiding place between an alley and began making his way back to the farm. What an interesting character. Dean could tell where Sam inherited her sarcasm.

A ringing from one of his many cell phones fought for Dean’s attention, distracting him from his Metalica C.D. He answered it without checking to see who was calling.

“Hello?”

“Dean… long time no see?” a taunting, familiar voice drawled. Dean cracked a smile.

“Derik, what a coincidence you call now. I just got rid of the last hunter in your town.”

“Oh, I was just going to ask about that. Any problems?”

“None really, except your teenager is dead and your bitch is being, well… a bitch.” Dean heard his old friend sigh on the other end.

“Ugh, thank goodness. That kid drove me nuts. And yeah, Trisha can be a little… stubborn sometimes. Sorry about that. Tell you what, when I get back from my meeting with the other Alphas, how about just you and me get a bite to eat? There’s a college campus nearby with a bunch of hot chicks.” He tempted.

Dean remembered back when he and Derik were the dynamic duo, man they had some good times. Of course, that was _before_ he met his mate Trisha. Dean had been a vampire for twenty-five years, and Derik a hundred when their paths crossed and Dean was just looking to cause trouble. Luckily, Derik had been doing that a long time already and knew how to be bad and get away with it. It was because of Derik that Dean barely remembered his time in the sixties since he was high and drunk on blood the whole time.

But time went on and Dean realized he couldn’t drink his problems away anymore and that he proved that he wasn’t a goody two-shoes like he tried so desperately to be when he was first turned. He finally found balance in his undead life, as well as rekindling an old passion: hunting. He became the exterminator of human hunters that happen to mess with Dean’s kind. It wasn’t hard to think like a hunter, having been one as a human. It was after Derik that Dean found purpose for his life, but that didn’t make him any less thankful for the good times they had.

“We’ll see man… truth is, I’ve got a snack of my own. A hunter that we captured. She’s back at the farm.”

“Whoa… are you sure you should keep her there?” Derik’s voice was obviously concerned.

“Not a problem. All the other hunters are dead or out of state.”

“Oh… well in that case, is she cute?”

Dean audibly laughed.

“She lip locked me when attempting to escape if that answers your question.”

“Nice.”

The conversation ended soon thereafter, and Dean pulled up the drive way of the farm house. He parked Baby and made his way over the gravel, hoping Trisha let Sam alone. But the scent of blood and sulfur made him stop dead in his tracks.

He only had to be ten feet away from the house to smell the gore that lay inside.

Carefully, he opened the creaky front door and in the hallway to greet him was the headless corpse of Trisha’s beefy goon. Dean curled his lips in repulse of the scene while his fangs slid down as a defensive gesture. His hand went for the demon blade.

He breathed in the air, noticing that its smell was only saturated with vampire blood, no human. Still, it didn’t calm him down. He needed to find Sammy… quick. He stepped over the bulky body, and tried to ignore the sound of the squish of his boots and the blood on the floor.

He hurried to the stairs, but not before seeing Trisha’s body slumped over the dinner table like it was a guillotine. Her head rolled a few feet away. Unfortunately, Dean couldn’t find a reason to care about the death of his old friend’s mate. Only one thing was on his mind as he worked his way down the stairs, following blood drenched footsteps. In the center of the room, he saw what seemed to be Sam… except…

“You know, you really shouldn’t sneak up on a girl like that.” Sam turned her head slowly, her voice in a higher falsetto than usual. A coy smile masked her face, an expression Dean could have never imagined Sam using. “You might see something you’re not supposed to.” Her beautiful hazel eyes turned completely black.

“Get out of her.” Dean growled lowly.

“Make me, big boy. Besides, how do you know she didn’t invite me in?”

Dean looked her over carefully. “Interesting… her anti-demon necklace is missing.” The demon scowled, “I know a warding charm when I see one, you demon bitch.”

The she-demon recaptured her composure and forced Sam’s face to make a sly grin. “Well aren’t you a clever little vampire. Make’s a girl blush when you even notice her jewelry.”

“Cut the crap, who are you?”

“The name’s Meg, I work for Princess’ tormentor. I was sent to make sure she didn’t get killed.” She circled towards Dean like a tigress. Darkness emanated from her very being.

“Well thanks for that, you really deserve a gold star.”

“No need to thank me sweetie, I personally only came to get this.” She held up the colt nonchalantly and giggled. It made Dean sick to see Sam being played like a puppet to this sick demon.

“Fine. You have what you want. _Leave._ ”

“Seriously? That’s it? You’re not going to fight me for it?” she asked incredulously.

Dean shrugged. “There’s nothing I can do to you without hurting Sam.”

The demon groaned and rolled her eyes in frustration. “Why do you care?! You’re a freaking monster for Pete’s sake, you should be on _my_ side if anything.”

“I’m more of the lone-wolf type.”

“What is it about her then, hmm? What is it about _her_ that makes her so special?”

Dean narrowed his eyes as her words sunk in. Why did he feel the need to be so protective of her? He didn’t really know, but his instincts told him she was very important. But one thing he did know was that it made his blood boil to see her be used as a pawn. Sam was just a person who could’ve had the chance to make something of her life, but because of the darkness from hell, she’ll never have that.

He looked at the demon gravely. “This is your last chance. Get out. _Now_.”

“Or what?”

At that very second Dean sprayed the demon’s face with holy water from the hunter’s bag. She screamed violently as steam evaporated but before Dean could grab her, black smoke roared out of Sam’s mouth. It hovered and then disappeared with the body of a short haired blonde lying lifeless in the corner. The colt nowhere to be seen.

But Dean didn’t notice that right away because he was too busy catching Sam before she fell to the ground. He held her petite form in his arms, urgently listening for a steady heartbeat. She seemed to be fine, but she didn’t wake up. _She probably won’t for a few hours_ Dean thought. Some people who have the will to fight the demon within them get exhausted they need to just sleep it off. Dean didn’t mind seeing the hunter so serene and calm.

He laid her down on the ground while he rounded up his weapons, raided the fridge for the blood bags and put them in a cooler and loaded it all in the impala. Dean found one of his old jackets and wrapped Sam in it before taking her with him and putting her in the front seat. It was a change to carry her like this without her struggling to get away from his touch, and it almost made Dean want to pretend that she was awake.

The vampire went back in the house and left his lighter on in the upstairs. He then went down to the kitchen and turned on the burners to the gas stove, ignoring Trisha’s corpse. He felt bad that Derik would come home to a burned house, his coven completely gone, and with the assumption that Dean was dead too. It had to be this way, though. He knew that Sam had more mysteries to be unlocked and Dean was determined to find out. And it wouldn’t be any good to have the vampire community think he was working with a hunter.

The engine revved to life, and there wasn’t even a flinch from Sammy. She was as silent as a baby, and her relaxed face did make her look considerably younger. The road laid before them. A vampire with an uncanny soft spot for a hunter, and a hunter with demon blood who only wanted to protect innocents. Sounded like the beginning of a bad joke.

They were only a couple miles out when Dean heard the explosion from the farm.

“Rest in pieces.” He said sarcastically, and there was only him to laugh at his corny joke. Sam was passed out, and had her head resting against the window. Dean could only think of how pissed she’ll be when she wakes up. But who knows? They might be in another state by the time that happens.


	6. The Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I apologize for not updating. I wasn't sure how to proceed since I had so many ideas for the story. Please forgive me! I hope those who wanted an update see that I have posted and they're not too mad at me to not read the latest chapter. Stay tuned for more! I will do my best to post weekly!  
> Enjoy!

Sam’s eyes opened lazily and with difficulty. The smell of aged leather and metal was subtle and slightly enjoyable, but because it was unfamiliar it made Sam wary. She groaned from a headache that made itself known in the seconds she was awake, and raised a hand to her head to quell it. Her limbs felt like lead as she realized how absolutely exhausted her body was. Every cell was crying for release from some unknown weight that still remained in her system. She massaged her head slightly to help rub away the feeling.

“How you doing?” a baritone voice interrupted Sam’s thoughts. She froze in place as she realized who it was that was speaking. She turned to face him, now completely awake and aware of her surroundings. Sure enough, Dean’s light green eyes were watching her every move as he multitasked driving.

Sam breathed very slowly, apprehensive of the situation, not _truly_ believing that she wasn’t tied up in anyway. In fact, she even felt what she assumed to be Dean’s jacket around her shoulders. _What the...?_ Then, her memories recollected in the back of her mind. Meg… the slaughter… all that blood she had caused by her unwilling hand. She felt like a cold hand slid down her spine and then a pit in her stomach formed making her feel sick.

“Pull over.” She whispered. She could tell he rolled his eyes, not really taking her command seriously. “Pull. _Over_.” She said again, this time it was more of a shout. The car was too confined, she was too close to… everything. Overwhelmed with her actions earlier, she needed to be by herself. She thought of all the blood- the severed heads- and it made her want to throw chunks.

The car pulled to the side of the road, and she practically jumped out before it was completely stopped. Dean wasn’t short behind, probably thinking she was going to make a run for it. Sam barely acknowledged him as she took deep breaths of the cool morning air. It couldn’t have been at least an hour after sunrise, yet she could tell that later it would be warm.  Her moment of nausea passed, and she calmed herself down from her panic. It had nothing to do with the blood, she’s seen worse being a hunter, that wasn’t the issue. What really made her sick to her stomach was the fact that she did that with her own hands, but _not_ her own will. She could see it all happen and do nothing about it. Her gaze flitted over barren fields, slowly coming back to earth.

She turned back to face Dean, he stayed near his car more than anything else, allowing Sam her space. She calmed herself down and forced out a composed expression. Sam remembered how he addressed Meg when the demon still had control over Sam’s body. He was terrifying. Nothing like the way he looked at her now. Now, his face remained unreadable all except his eyes which portrayed concern. Earlier though, he was livid and almost possessive when he spoke to the demon about Sam. It was Meg he was directing his predatory anger at, but Sam saw it too and it scared her. She was determined to not let it show.

She took a calm, low breath and smoothed her hair. “Where are we?” she asked, looking him in the eye. He stepped forward keeping her gaze the whole time.

“Somewhere in Oklahoma.”

_Oklahoma!?_

Sam groaned in frustration. She was completely stranded with a vampire in the middle of nowhere, and no possible way of making contact with Bobby or… Dad. Shit, _Dad_. He had to know by now that the hunt didn’t go as planned, and was probably furious with her. Wait a minute…

“Where’s the Colt?” Sam asked in a panic.

“Is that what you’re worried about right now?”

“Seriously? You’re asking me what I’m _worried_ about? Sorry, you’re right. Maybe I should be more concerned about being stranded with a vampire instead.”

“Hey, you’re alive aren’t you?” he countered, sounding a bit upset at the comment. Sam sighed, and tried to let the wave of anger pass.

“Fine. Then give me your phone.” She ordered with her hand outstretched. He laughed in surprise and crossed his arms as he leaned against the Impala.

“Nice try half-pint, I don’t think so.”

“Then what?! What is your plan Mr. Mysterious? You kidnap me to get information, then you save me, and then you kidnap me again, and now what? Either kill me, or let me go!” She shouted.

“Well aren’t you just a little melodramatic. Did a third option ever cross your mind? One that would be beneficial to the both of us?”

“What are you talking about?” she glared.

He stood upright from the Impala and began making his way towards Sam. “Well let’s see. You have a demon problem, one that involves a powerful one at that. You can’t seem to protect yourself very well from that. I, on the other hand, have a bit more knowledge on the topic than you do. I know how to ward them off _and_ track them down. That would be very useful to you wouldn’t it? Being that they have the colt…”

“How could you possibly know how to track them?” Sam asked in disbelief, but listening nevertheless.

“Tricks of the trade, you don’t get to find out until we have a deal.”

“And what do you want from me?”

He glanced down at her mischievously before continuing his terms. “I am off limits to you and your hunting buddies. No slicing or dicing. Consider me a ward of your protection.” He said with a sickly sweet smile.

“I can’t promise that. You’re a vampire. Some hunter I don’t even know could cut you down someday.”

“Can’t get rid of me that easy. If I get into any trouble with your kind, I call you and you bail me out of it. Those are my terms.”

“So what you’re saying is that you’ll help us get the Colt back in order for some sort of twisted immunity rights?”

“Only you.” Dean said staring down at her.

“What?”

“I only work with you. Your friend and whoever else aren’t in the picture. I won’t be forced to watch my back more than I have to.”

“But-“

“No arguing on this one. It’s like me bringing in another vampire to help us out, not sure you would really appreciate that.”

He had a point. Sam thought over what Dean was proposing, and the more she thought about it the crazier it sounded. A hunter working with a vampire? It seemed impossible. Dad would be enraged at Sam for even considering the possibility, but he wasn’t here right now. This was her decision. Of course, she didn’t trust him, but he definitely seemed to know what he was talking about. He would get Sam results instead of sulking around all the time like Dad did. Dad would demand Sam’s full participation at catching the demon, but then let her do nothing. What Dean was proposing was a partnership.

“You help me get the Colt back, and in return, I allow you to live.”

“Something like that. Do we have a deal?” he asked, the sunlight hit his green eyes making him seem almost endearing. Sam bit her lip and hesitated, thinking it over just one last time. It was a terrible plan, but what other choice did she have? The sooner she got the Colt, the sooner she could kill Azazel and she would be rid of her terrible visions.

“Yes. Deal.” She answered decisively. He smirked.

“Seal it with a kiss? I know how you look for any chance you can get at my lips.” He teased.

“Ugh, Jerk.” Sam rolled her eyes and punched his arm as she walked past him to make her way to the sleek black Impala.

“Bitch.” He called back to her as he tried to catch up.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Dean watched Sam fidget uncomfortably in her chair at the dive bar and grill they were at as he dished up free popcorn from the machine. She tried to keep her gaze on the menu, but he could see her steal greedy glances at trays of food being brought to other tables. Dean realized he’d have to get used to taking more pit stops than usual for more than just gas and bathroom breaks. But Dean could cut Sam a little slack being that she hadn’t eaten anything in a couple days.

 He placed the bowl of popcorn in front of the starving hunter, snapping her out of staring at another guy’s steak and eggs. Dean waited patiently as she gobbled down the bowl, and distracted himself by looking through the menu. He noticed that he too was hungrier than usual, but nothing the restaurant served could quite satiate his appetite. Dean subtly eyed the pretty little vein on Sam’s neck in longing, but he turned away before she could notice. No, his meal was in a medical cooler in the trunk of his beloved car.

 “Good mornin’, I’m Candice, can I start you two off with something to drink?” a perky waitress addressed Dean and Sam.

 “I’ll stick with water, but she will have your bacon cheese burger with extra fries, if you don’t mind.” Dean spoke up before Sam had the chance, and she did her best to suppress an irritated glare. The waitress looked to Sam for confirmation, and all Sam could do was give a bashful closed-mouthed smile back with popcorn filled cheeks. The waitress nodded and headed back to the kitchen to put in the order.

“I could have been vegan.” Sam said openly, which Dean just saw as her trying to be difficult.

“You don’t look the type.”

Sam noticed forlornly that the popcorn bowl was empty, but decided it was better that way so she could focus on what her and Dean’s game plan was. Their table was in the back of the restaurant, probably strategically on Dean’s part since he picked it out so they could discuss openly. It felt weird to be out with him in public, but she would have to get used to it sooner rather than later if they were going to work together.

“So… what is the plan? How are we going to find Meg?”

“We wait. Watch newspapers until something freaky comes up.” Dean says matter-of-factly.

Sam stares at him blankly. A calm fury building up.

“Excuse me? I didn’t make a deal with you so we could just sit around.”

Dean locks gazes with her. She was definitely strong willed. He would have to explain it to her since it was obviously not going to take his lead without question.

“Look, we can’t go looking for her in an obvious way because that would bring attention to ourselves. She would be able to see us a mile away and cover her sulfery ass. Patience is key when dealing with demons.”

“We don’t _have_ time! She has the colt, and we need it back.”

Dean looked her up and down skeptically. His interest was rising again. He rested his elbow on the greasy table, and rested on his hand as he peered at the hunter across the table.

“Why do you want the Colt so bad?” Dean asked with a neutral tone.

Sam retreated from her assertive pose away from the vampire slowly. To answer him would be to tell him more about herself, about a subject she barely discusses with Bobby and her father. How could she go about answering his question without giving away the details of her mission?

“The Colt can kill anything. That would be useful to hunters.” She replied, avoiding his piercing gaze. He stared a bit longer beginning to make her uneasy. Thankfully something required both of their attention, and saving Sam to talk more than she pleased.

“Alright, here’s your meal! Can I get you anything else?” the waitress chirped, and distracted Dean’s gaze. He gave her the most dazzling smile Sam had ever seen on a man before.

“No thanks, Candice. I think we’re good.” He replied, his voice as smooth as butter. It made Sam’s stomach flutter, and the waitress blush.

Sam forced herself to snap out of it. _He’s as alluring as a siren_. She composed her thoughts and reminded herself. _Sirens are deadly, just like him_. Candice left them and the hunter began picking at her fries.

“If you hold things back from me, that’s fine. It just means you can’t expect me to be completely honest with you.” Dean listens to her heart beat at him with retaliation. She says nothing, but the bitch-face she’s wearing tells him all he needs to know. “But know this, Winchester. I am being honest with you when I say you need to let me take the lead on this one. Patience is the key in the beginning.”

Sam looks back down at her food. As much as she hated to admit it, he was probably right. She did make a deal with him for his knowledge, and here she was telling him how she would go about it. Perhaps that’s why it had never worked well for her or her dad. She gave a defeated sigh.

“Fine.”

Dean smiled.


	7. The Hunt

Sam did as Dean instructed. She waited.

For a week.

There were no signs that indicated a demon of any sort in their area. She grew impatient and itched for a hunt. Sam wasn’t the type of person to take a vacation. Maybe her drive to help others was fueled by her guilt. The guilt that haunted her after Jesse’s death. How she could have stopped it, somehow. She should have told him her premonition, even if he thought she was crazy. She would have preferred anything as long as he didn’t die.

But finally, after surfing the internet for hours for a potential case involving demons, she found something else. A news article from Ankeny, Iowa. Bodies were piling up from assumed animal maulings in a town that was seemingly quiet. Sam was intrigued, and began digging deeper in the web. This was clearly something she was going to pursue. She printed off the article in the quiet library, and made her way out the door. She began walking toward the motel she and Dean were staying.

Or at least, where Dean was staying. Sam refused to share a room with him even if there were two beds. He needed to be kept at arm’s length at all times, even if that meant she had to sleep in the Impala. Besides, it was disgusting to see him drink a bag of blood. Sam rubbed the kink in her neck as she knocked on his door. She heard the click of the television turn off and his footsteps approaching. He squinted at the sunlight as he cracked open the door and a grin appeared as he saw Sam there.

“I knew you’d come a knocking. Decide to take the other bed?”

“Not in your lifetime.” Sam scowled as she pushed through and placed her backpack on a small table in the cheap room. Dean shut the door.

“I don’t know Sammy. My lifespan will last a long time unless I get ganked by a hunter.” He countered.

“Don’t call me ‘Sammy’. And would it kill you to turn on a couple lights in here?”

 It’s almost pitch black with the curtains drawn she noticed as she tried to feel around the room for a light switch. Suddenly, she felt cool breath on the back of her neck, which made her hair stand on end.

“Why? You afraid of the dark?” Dean’s voice whispered behind her.

Sam tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach, and the distinct scent of cinnamon and the forest that Dean had. She brought her arm forward and railed it back with force, knocking the breath out of his chest. She heard him stumble slightly until he hit a switch. 

“Does that answer your question?”

The vampire panted in reply with a smile, but with intensity in his eyes. It was like he was trying to start a fight. It had been like this all week between the two of them. Sam was surprised they hadn’t killed each other yet since they were constantly at each other’s throats. Figuratively, of course. The tension would build with their interactions, but it never escalated beyond that. This is the exact reason Sam chooses to sleep in the car.

Dean watched her open her bag with intention. He righted himself to lean against the wall as she worked. _That kid packs a punch_. He didn’t mind it though, as his breath went back to normal. Dean realized that it was on him, for making her respond like that. But Dean couldn’t _help_ it. It was so easy to get her riled up and he was enticed to see her reaction every time. She was as swift and effective as any hunter he’d ever crossed paths with. Perhaps even more so. He wanted to see more than anything what she was capable of. Dean knew he had to be careful with a mentality like that, but he was used to brushing by danger at every turn.

“Point taken, Daniel Larusso. What you got there?”

Sam tucked her hair behind her ear as she studied the stack of papers in her hand before replying to him.

“We’re going on a hunt.” She stated.

Of course they were. With as stubborn as she is, Dean wondered if there was any point in fighting her. They had been waiting for any signs of demonic activity, but he could tell that she was getting irritated. He knew it was only a matter of time before this would come up.

“Are we now?” he waited for her to continue.

“Yes. Sitting around here is getting us nowhere.” Sam persisted. Dean sighed and went to sit on the bed. “I know it’s a foreign concept for you, but it _is_ my job to protect people.”

“Well, lay it on me. What do you got?” He saw her confused reaction from his lack of retaliation to what she was proposing. Her delicate features moved on to looking serious again. Such a harsh look on her. It was as if she was much older than she actually was. Dean knew what kind of toll was laid on hunters.

“So get this, I found a recent newspaper article about some deaths in Iowa.” Her eyes scanned the paper she was looking for clarification. “Sheriff of the town blames it on bear attacks from the state that the bodies were in.”

“Well, maybe they are. So far it doesn’t sound like our kind of hunt.” He saw her hesitate on his wording of them sharing a hunt. Sam seems to forget that Dean was a human once, and was a hunter like she is. Is it really that unbelievable?

“Hear me out. I did some more research, and the facts didn’t add up. The bears in the area are getting ready to hibernate, so they would be retreating into the woods instead of branching out. Also, the town is so sleepy and by the looks of it, I think the only crime they’ve had might be a bar fight.”

Dean groaned as he buried his head in his hands. The kid had a point. This was a bit suspicious, and honestly he’s looked into cases for less. What would be the harm in an investigation? Nothing was showing up from the demon anyway.

“What town was it?” muffled through his hands.

“Ankeny.”

Dean sighed.

“I guess we’re going on a road trip.”

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Sam threw duffle bags over her shoulder that she grabbed from the Impala’s trunk. She’ll admit she was shocked to see that it was lined with weapons and a crude pentagram insignia inside the hood. _One can never be too prepared, I guess._ It was just too strange to imagine Dean like this. He had the same type of guns that either Bobby or her Dad would carry, as well as what seemed to be herbs or whatever else might be used in potentially fighting other monsters. He did say he was a hunter when he was human, but he is a monster now. Why would he be keeping up old habits? It didn’t make sense. She eyed the silver machete that lined the rear of the trunk and her gaze flitted to Dean unlocking the motel door. She took a deep breath and slammed the trunk shut. She needed Dean right now, but that didn’t mean she trusted him.

She made her way to the room and tossed the bags on the bed closest to the door. She began unpacking and sorting through the duffel. Inside were State Trooper uniforms and fake I.D’s galore. They had stopped along the way at place Sam knew would keep their mouth shut if you gave them enough money. A lot of hunters recommend these kind of places to stay under the radar and help with cases.

“You still never gave me back my cell phone.” Sam stated. She was prepared for the vampire to make some sort of snide remark or some kind of invitation for a game he could twist her into playing. She was ten times more irritated when he answered her.

“Ha… yeah, about that.” Dean grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. First of all, the hunter didn’t think the bloodsucker could make that kind face, and second… where is her damn phone? “I may have accidentally left it in the nest when it burnt down.” Dean saw the small hunter stop in her tracks as she hung up her uniform.

It was obvious that a silent rage was bubbling beneath her skin since her heartbeat gave it away. Before she could open her mouth Dean finished the argument before it even started.

“You wouldn’t be able to use it anyway. One of your friends could track it and I wouldn’t be able to help you find your demon.”

Not being able to contact anyone made Sam feel almost claustrophobic and want to flail away. But the realization that no one could get ahold of her was calming. Dad wasn’t yelling at her and the hostile aura that hung around the two Winchesters was no longer present. Ever since she declared moving to California, he denounced her as his kid. It wasn’t until Jesse died that Dad came running back and offered- more like demanded- Sam come back into the business with him. At the time, she was so driven by revenge that she obliged willingly. The strongest thing that bonded her and Dad right now was the fact that both of their loved ones were killed by the same beast.

Sam sighed. Just because of the beef she had with her dad didn’t mean Bobby should suffer from it. Sam had attempted to call her father to explain that she was fine using a payphone, but the bastard didn’t even pick up. It was typical of him. She didn’t call Bobby, who probably deserved her call first. But if Dad gets her voicemail, he’d be sure to let Bobby know, right?

“I saw a diner, I’m going to fuel up.” Sam changed the topic. “You can do whatever it is you do. We’ll meet up later.” Right now, Sam needed space to cool down. With Dean around, that was close to impossible.

“Fine.” He huffed. Dean watched her leave the motel. Was she really going where she said she was, or was that a cover for something else. He was sure that Sam knew she needed him to find the demon, but she sure as hell didn’t at like it. If she was looking to hail back some hunters, he was going to be pissed.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The town was littered with missing signs of lost people. Some even had rewards for their return. Sam kept strolling until she saw a tearstained woman stapling a sign to a building outside a restaurant. Her dark curly hair and clothes added to her disheveled look. She must have been family to one of the victims.

“Ma’am?” Sam called out. The woman met her gaze in confusion. “If you don’t mind, may I ask who you are looking for?” the woman looked down at her fliers and it was obvious she was holding back tears.

“My son. Anthony. He’s been missing for two days.”

Sam convinced the woman to sit and talk to her inside the diner and elaborate on her story. She found out that the woman was Carol Mayes. Her boy had been gone off in the woods where him and his older brother would go. The other son Joey was not with him when he disappeared. In fact, he was currently hanging up posters on the other side of town.

“Joey thinks it’s his fault, but it’s mine. I’m busy working, and it shouldn’t be Joey’s job to look after him. I’m their mother.”

“Miss Mayes, how many others are missing?”

“I think there are four others. The ones on the State Reserve are denying that anything is going on other than the bears attacking hikers. They’re not doing anything!” she wept.

“I’m actually planning on taking a visit to the Reserve. My… partner and I are State Troopers sent here to investigate the disappearances.” Sam reassured. “Is there a way I can contact you if we have more questions?”

The woman nodded, and scribbled a number on a napkin.

“Please, you have to find my son.”

Sam was walking back to the motel after she parted ways with Carol. She was pondering the story and how to proceed with further investigation when her thoughts were disrupted by the sound of a couple passionately kissing. She looked down the alley where it was emanating and saw the shape of a blonde woman and a man. Sam would have just kept walking except she recognized the leather jacket that the man wore. He led them behind a dumpster and out of Sam’s view. She went into hunter mode and ran into the alley. The woman yelped slightly before Sam arrived.

“ _Dean!_ ” Sam shouted. Was she too late? Had he bitten the blonde? The vampire jolted and turned around, his arms still on the blonde’s waist. His perfect lips were red from kissing, but not from blood. Sam didn’t relax, but she was relieved and released her hand from her concealed knife.

 “We need to talk.” Sam glared. Dean let go of the blonde, and she seemed disappointed. He gave one of his cheeky smiles and a wink. It made Sam’s heart flutter.

“Maybe I’ll catch you later?” he asked as she walked away.

“As long as you don’t use as much teeth, hun.” She called back.

Dean turned around to see a fuming Winchester before him.

               

“There’s no need to be jealous, there’s plenty of me to go around.” Dean teased. The look in Sam’s eyes was deadly, and it pierced Dean to the core. Maybe this would push the hunter enough that she would do something about his actions. The blonde woman wasn’t what Dean really wanted, but he would have made do. It had never been so clear to Dean what he really wanted.

“You cannot eat people! Not while I’m around!”

Sam’s words struck Dean with a wave from his past. Someone very close to him had said that same phrase years ago. The brusque accented voice rang in his ears from when those words were barked at him. Dean had been young, just after he was turned. He needed to be kept in line, and his maker made sure he was. That is until Dean decided he was sick of swearing off blood. Animals and hospital blood bags were no longer good enough for him like they were the man who gave Dean his second life. It was after Dean told his maker to shove it that he met Derik. They had their wild times in the sixties where his thrill of the hunt had no end. Dean could have his fill and nobody stopped him.

“Well, I have to eat Sammy.” He glared down. She shoved him to the wall, which was not what he was expecting.

“No. When we work together, you go vampire vegetarian. I will _help_ you get blood from hospitals if that’s what I need to do. But if you go and do your own hunting, that’s where I draw the line. Don’t give me a reason to hunt you down.” Sam solidified her intention.

Dean scoffed with disbelief.

“You really don’t trust me, do you?” Dean smiled down, but his eyes were unkind.

Sam wanted to avert his gaze, but she kept her ground. She didn’t want to admit to his question, despite its truth. How could she trust him? They were on different sides of a spectrum when it came to saving people. Dad would have killed the vampire the second he turned his back. Sam would have as well, but whatever it was about the monster before her have Sam a sense of belonging. This sensation frightened her, so it added to the reason to distance herself. Sam’s silence was Dean’s answer.

“Well news flash, Sammy, I don’t trust you either.” Sam flinched back at Dean’s remark. “Don’t pretend that you don’t go making calls on payphones to your fellow hunters.”

Sam did look away at this point.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“I didn’t tell them anything! All I did was say that I was safe.”

“Is that the truth? Because if you don’t believe your own words, how could you lie to your friends like that. You can’t even sleep in the same room as me!”

Sam saw his fangs slide down, and out of reflex she reached for her blade. Dean noticed with irritation, and stepped back away from her. He gave what was between a sigh and a bitter laugh at her. He shook his head and started walking to the exit of the alley. Sam felt a pang of guilt hit her like a ton of bricks.

“Wait.” Sam called, but the vampire didn’t stop.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come!


	8. The Rescue

Damn Sam Winchester. At this point, it didn’t matter that her scent sent Dean flying above the clouds or if her heartbeat was as soothing as the pulsing of a bass drum. It didn’t matter. She was the most stubborn woman he had ever met with the vibe of a know it all. It drove him nuts! How could such spitfire fit in such a small frame, Dean had no idea.

                Did Sam really have such little faith in him? Dean didn’t know why he was so distraught over this revelation. It wouldn’t be a big deal if some random human didn’t trust him, he was used to that, but with Sam he had this unnatural urge to prove her wrong. She must have still thought of him as a monster with the potential need to hunt down.

                Well she could sure as hell try. Dean had been around for half a century, and he has no intention of tapping out anytime soon. He knew the patterns and ticks of hunters better than anyone else, and if it came down to it, he could still escape from the grip of the Winchester. Couldn’t he?

Dean’s foul mood carried him through the town. The only thing that brought him out of his trance was the sound of a near off cry. The first thought that came to his mind was if the voice belonged Sammy. His arched his head so that he could hear better. Fear spiked in his blood as the adrenaline pumped through him. Dean turned and began to jog and eventually run to the sound. He found himself deep into the woods, surrounded by deep greens and tall trees. He could hear the cry fade into a whimper, and he knew he was close.

With the smell blood in the air, his movements instantly became more tactile and intentional. His instincts were kicking in for the potential threat of danger. It was no longer the sound that was leading him close to the source, but now it was the scent. Dean knew that it was not Sam, for the aroma he was following now didn’t hold a candle to the desire that he had for the Winchester. The craving he had for Sam’s blood seemed as though it was etched in his being.

Dean attempted to refocus, as his fangs lowered. He turned a corner within the dense woods and saw a boy on the ground and bloody. He was shaking as he leaned against a tree with his hand on his chest to hide what seemed to be three long claw marks on his chest. Dean cocked his head with curiosity and approached. He reminded himself before the scent of crimson hit him that he was supposed to investigate and save the trembling boy. For a split second he thought he should stick to Sam’s rule. _Don’t eat the locals_. Ugh, fine. But it’s not because Sam told him not to.

It seemed as he got closer he saw that the bruised and bloody kid was a teenager, probably about sixteen. Dean knelt down and put his hand on the kid’s shoulder in an attempt to reassure him, as well as to keep him from falling to the ground. Dean could hear the racing of his heartbeat as shallow blood pumped through his veins. He retracted his fangs before speaking. It was odd for him to be stepping into some other monster’s dirty work when he was the one used to leaving his prey like this.

“Kid, what’s your name?”

The boy’s eyes flitted nervously around them. As if the trees themselves would close in.

“Joey… Joey Mayes.” He whispered distractedly.

“What happened here?” Stared the kid down for an answer.

“I… it’s… we have to get out of here.” The kid, Joey, grabbed the vampire’s hand in urgency.

“What do you mean? What came after yo-“

The last thing Dean saw was Joey looking a foot above his head and his face about to scream. After that, everything went black.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Guilt was a pit in Sam’s stomach for the rest of the day. Despite telling herself that it didn’t matter that Dean was pissed at her. She did the right thing. Still, she felt almost ashamed that he called her out on her lack of faith in him. She had to get over this! There was still a case to solve.

Sam made it back to the motel where they were staying to suit up in a State Trooper uniform. As she opened the door, she was half expecting-dare she say half hoping- Dean would be lurking with the lights off. With a trace of disappointment, he was nowhere to be found. Sam dismissed her emotions as she donned the uniform. He didn’t specify how long his tantrum would be, so she told herself to move on. It wouldn’t be the first time she did a case on her own, but she did note how much easier it is to work with someone else.

She locked the door behind her as she made her way out. Sam had planned to take the bus to the State Reserve, but as she glanced to the parking lot and she couldn’t help but notice that the sleek Impala remained. Relief came over her as she realized Dean had not skipped town on her. A sort of uneasiness began to form despite the Impala’s presence. Sam shook her head. _Dean’s a scary monster who can look out for himself._ That’s what she told herself on the bus to the Park.

Easy enough, she got a meeting with the Ranger who ran the Reserve. Fake badges can do wonders to get VIP passes. The man was in his fifties, with dark hair that was starting to gray. An aura of irritation surrounded him and gave Sam the idea that he was apprehensive of her presence.

“So what’s a Trooper doing in our neck of the woods.” He asked with a fake smile.

“Mr. Tate, I was simple here to investigate the disappearances that have gone on here. Would you be able to give me any information on the subject?”

He scoffed and looked away from Sam.

“There’s no need for your help here, kid. We have it under control.”

Sam ignored the jab at her.

“It doesn’t seem that way to the State. If you were doing your job, as you so claim, you would send out more search parties. Especially for the young boy who has recently gone missing.”

The older man glared at her for having to submit to her question.

“Fine. Here are the files on the recently missing citizens.” Mr. Tate tossed over files over the desk to where Sam sat. She began going through the mess as she still interrogated him.

“Are all five victims local?”

“Yes.”

“Are there any other connections between them? Anyone that would have an obvious intention to harm them?” Sam slightly looked up from the mess of papers.

“No. It’s a quiet town. Nobody would have incentive for foul play. What makes you think that they disappeared in our woods?”

“Mr. Tate, where else would they go? It’s a small town, and they would have been found by now.” Sam spoke without looking up from the files. She could feel the glow of anger all the way across the desk. Better not push her luck for much longer. Sam thanked him for his time and left soon after. It was probably more accurate to say she was thrown out. It didn’t matter to her if she came off a bit pushy. Time was limited, and she wanted to find these people if they were still alive.

Sam was on her way to the bus stop when she felt a familiar ringing in her ears. Fear pored over her body like ice water. _No, not now_. The ringing became a roar and she fell to the gravel on the road. She tried to cover her ears but it was no use because the sound did not come from the outside. It came from within.

_“Well, well, well. Look at you being all grown up.”_

_“Stop.”_

_“Please, Samantha. Don’t you want to know why I’m here?”_

_“Hell no.”_

_Laughter came from the voice, and she shuddered at the sound._

_“That’s no way to treat someone who wants to give you information about the nasty happenings of this town.”_

_Sam stopped trying to writhe out of the vision. She stilled her focus, still hesitating what the demon was trying to say._

_“What are you talking about?”_

_“All I’m saying is that your personal leech has been away for quite a while, hasn’t he?”_

_Sam began to fight back once again. Her anger getting the best of her._

_“What did you do to him!?” the intensity rang from her incorporeal voice. There was no answer, but she could feel a smile from Yellow Eyes despite not being able to see anything. The response she received instead were crashing images that seemed to be stuffed through her eyes, causing pain annausea._

_She saw foot prints, too large for a human. Claws struck her view, and the sound of growling. There were trees, one specifically cut down the middle. She saw blood, a boy with slashes on his chest. The last-and the most tormenting- image, was when she saw Dean hanging from chains and blood falling down the side of his face._

Sam was released from the flashing images, and her mind readjusted like it would from attacking strobe lights. She managed to slow her breathing, and calm her racing heart. The noise was gone. She only had the cool evening night to come back to, but it seemed even the moon was too bright for her liking.

The demon hadn’t done this to Dean. All the dots were being connected as Sam worked her way to standing and staring down the gravel road. The research she did pointed back to an old lumberjack business that, at the time, seemed to be of little importance. But now it was the connecting focus of the entire case. People began going missing every twenty years, but it was all brushed under the rug as campers who lost their way. It wasn’t as well noticed, but still relevant to the disappearances of the town. Dad had spoken of people who consumed human flesh obtained supernatural characteristics such as speed and strength. The main point Sam was getting to was the fact that they hibernate for years at a time which would line up with the local disappearances. It was stocking up.

Her cell rang, and Sam flinched at the noise. A panicked voice assaulted her sensitive hearing.

“Sam?”

“Mrs. Mayes?”

“Joseph is missing.” Sam sobered up quickly. “The last I heard from him was that he was hanging posters, but he seemed distracted. I think he may have gone looking for Anthony.”

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Dean groaned as he came to his senses. He wasn’t used to his head pounding so much, despite his history of massive hangovers. He looked up to find his hands in chains, which at first seemed trivial, but when he tried to shake them there was no give. His vision swam as he tried to blink it away, and he tried to give the chains another jerk.

“Please… don’t make any more noise. You’ll bring it this way.” a small whisper came from his left.

He turned to seek the source and found a small boy who looked oddly similar to the teenager that got Dean kidnapped. The boy was chained to the wall behind them instead of from the ceiling like Dean and Joey were. Even the vampire could barely touch his toes to the ground.

“It’s going to be okay Tony; we’ll get out of here. I promise.”

Dean acknowledged the teen’s presence on the other side of the small kid, Tony apparently. He cringed internally. He does _not_ do chick flick moments, and sure as hell doesn’t babysit. To be honest he was still pretty pissed that he got knocked out in the first place. There was no way he’d lost his touch so soon by being with a hunter, was there?

His question was answered when the fire of need was increased with the smell of fresh and dried blood in the air. The heartbeats of both of the kids echoed in his ears. It was like music, and Dean was the maestro. If unchained he would direct the sounds to increase with fear, or settle to a rumble with the loss of crimson.

He turned his head away as his fangs dropped. Dean could feel his eyes glow with hunger. This was not the time to lose it just because he’d missed lunch. And breakfast. This was the time to plot an escape. Hopefully he could find a way to manage without the Winchester, but options seemed a bit tight at the moment.

A sound of a moved rock caught his attention and he snapped to look down the cold stone wall. His muscles tensed in case the thing that took them all here was approaching. He was about to growl, his anger and frustration made everything worse. He was hungry, he was chained like a wild animal and he was becoming closer and closer to acting like one. Dean was prepared to take down anything that entered the doorway. Instead of a beast, a recognizable hunter made her way towards them.

“Dean!” Sam whispered and rushed to his side. “Thank god you’re alright.”

Dean’s heart stopped. The itch he was feeling under his skin increased, but he didn’t feel it. No other feeling to could be compared to when Sam Winchester said his name. It seemed to stop time. There was no underlying anger hidden under her tone, no sarcastic remark, no challenge in her voice. It was simply concern. And it was directed completely at Dean. He breathed in her scent. This wasn’t a dream, she was truly there, and he wanted everything. His fangs retracted and the glow of his eyes faded. He could wait. Right now her voice was the only thing that sated him. It was the first time Sammy had ever called him by his name.

“Sure. This is the epitome of ‘alright’.” He cracked. Dean saw a trace of smile on her face as she rid him of his chains.

He watched her move to the boys with the same lock pick she used on Dean. Her movements seemed graceful and tactical with haste. She inspected the boys for their wounds while addressing Dean.

“We’re dealing with a Wendigo.”

_We’re._

“The only way we can kill it is with fire…- Dean, are you listening to me?”

He snapped out of the lull of her voice.

“Entirely. It makes sense that the thing could sneak up on me so fast. Do you have a flame thrower on you?”

He saw the familiar roll of her eyes as she put the smaller boy on her back.

“No, but I found this in the trunk of the Impala.” She handed Dean a flare gun. “So let’s go before it comes back.”

Dean assessed what they were dealing with. The bloodied teenager, and the kid on Sam’s back. They would all be treats for the monster at the slow pace they would have to go.

“Get them out of here. I’ll follow.”

Hesitation and that newfound look of concern traced her expression. Dean could get used to that face, if they all made it out of here. Finally, Sam turned and led the boys out the door and the direction she came in. Dean took the opposite direction.

“I’ve got a bone to pick with you, Speedy Gonzales! Come and get me you sonofabitch!”

Sam heard the ruckus fade away as she ran with the Mayes boys down the tunnel. She had to remember all the twists and turns she took to sneak into the place. It used to belong to miners who transported lumbar underground along with minerals. With it being abandoned and without lighting, the place was a maze.

“I think I see a light…” Joey whispered and pointed to the left corner of an entrance. Tony on Sam’s back squeezed a little tighter in fear.

The three of them slowly turned the corner and picked up the pace once again until their paths collided with a monstrous roar. Before them was a tall troll looking figure with red eyes and unnaturally long claws. Sam struggled to find her gun and aimed at the beast. He snarled and stepped closer until a flame started in the center of his stomach. It engulfed it within moments of spark starting. The Tony hid behind her back as the blaze roared, while Joey shield his eyes. Confusion over came Sam until she saw the silhouette of Dean behind the ashes. He came close enough so she could see the cocky grin on his perfect face.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Ambulance sirens echoed in the distance as they carried the Mayes family to the hospital. Joey would need stitches, and Tony would need bandages for his wounds. The police wanted to keep them longer for questioning, but the vampire and hunter slipped away while Mrs. Mayes gushed over her boys. The wendigo was gone, and civilians were saved in the process. For a moment, Sam was content gazing at the stars in silence.

“How did you find out where we were? Or did you just work double time because you missed me?” Dean teased as he sucked down a blood bag.

Sam knew that it usually disgusted her, but right now it was a dull annoyance. How would she tell him? She thought about evading the question with a sly remark about the vampire getting caught in the first place, but it didn’t seem right. He didn’t save his own skin and leave the mine, he stayed and killed the wendigo. She put her life in his hands, and he deserved to know.

“I had a vision.” Sam said to herself knowing Dean could hear.

The moment was now sober, but nonetheless meaningful. Dean’s full attention was on her, but not in the way she wanted to run away from.

“You were in it. I saw you chained, and I followed the images I saw to where you all were. The details were mirrored all the way up to the tree spilt in half at the entrance of the mine.” She looked Dean in the eyes. “I know… that we have been colliding while working together, but…” Sam couldn’t find the rest of her words in that train of thought while dean looked at her like that. She rephrased it differently. “Can we just try again? The whole partner thing?”

Dean’s face was unreadable at first but instead of breaking into a usual sly grin, he regarded her equally. Their eyes lingered for a moment, and then that moment went far longer than necessary. Neither moved, they both felt the force that was keeping them close. It felt like they could find all the answers they wanted in the pale green and the hazel of each other’s eyes.

Neither knew how the moment ended. Perhaps Sam remembered her distaste of the blood bag in Dean’s hand, or Dean thought of another joke to make the hunter squirm. Either way, they both got off the hood of the impala and made their way to their according doors.

“Sam? How did Baby get here, I never drove…” a paused moment while Dean put the puzzle pieces together. “I swear to your heaven, if there is one scratch on my car-!”

Sam smiled and buckled her seat.


	9. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Fam Bam.  
> I'm going to admit that I do not post consecutively, and I apologize with the inconsistency. I am very meticulous on how I want the plot and I want to deliver my best work to you all! I love comments, and thank you for all the Kudos :) Thank you all for being patient. 
> 
> Enjoy the latest update!

A piercing ray of light decided to rest itself right upon Sam’s eyes, which caused for a groggy and irritated wake up call. She felt like massive hangover had taken hold, and wanted nothing more than to just turnover and fall back asleep. That is when she realized she could not.

She was pinned to her back by a sleeping sprawled out body. Sam could feel crew cut hair against her cheek and soft breathing against her shoulder. Their legs were intertwined and a strong arm over her waist that would not be moving anytime soon.

_Um…_

What happened last night? The more she tried to remember, the more the dull headache returned. The only thing she was sure of is that this was Dean.

_Oh no… did they…?_

She sobered up instantly at the realization that there was skin on skin. Her legs were just as bare are her arms in the tank top she wore. His breathing was tickling her neck by now, and a cold nervous sweat broke out on Sam’s brow. She attempted to squirm out of her position, but his arm reflexively pulled tighter as if she were a stubborn pillow.

“Just a few more minutes…” his muffled voice vibrated through her skin and through the pillow.

Sam gave a push and tried to untangle herself with little regard to Dean’s comment. The jerk probably woke up when she did, but made no effort to move. She scooted to the far end of the bed and wrapped the thin sheet around her bare legs as Dean rolled over to meet her.

“What happened last night?” Sam was completely awake by now, but Dean seemed to be groggy still. He looked like a lazy cat that had no intention of moving, but did have the energy to look at Sam like she was the mouse.

“C’mon, you’re telling me you don’t remember?” he drawled, low and seductive.

Sam froze in place. This is not happening. This whole scene has got to be a dream. Keeping the sheets around her waist, she turned to look for her pants on the floor. With success, she stood to grab them but pulled the blankets with her. Leaving Dean exposed.

Of course, Sam did not realize this until she turned around to face him after the denim was on her skin. She flinched, but soon relaxed. His black boxers covered his smooth skin. She averted her eyes and through the sheets back at him. Sam refused to let herself be distracted by… the visage that was Dean. Adrenaline made her heart pound, but she was not sure if shock was the only emotion that caused it. They did not do anything last night.

Dean’s expression watered down.

“You had a vision. It was pretty bad this time. Do you remember now?”

Sam closed her eyes in thought, when it all came back. Every. Single. Detail.

                                                                                ~~~~

 

_Sam’s hands were over her ears, her eyes screwed shut as her body shook. Her head felt like an over packed suitcase as images forced their way into her mind. Voices rang to the point where Sam could only catch a few key words: Saginaw… suicide… Michigan. The rest were all images that clouded her view. Too much. It was all too much._

_“Sammy!”_

_Sam could barely feel the rough hands that held her shoulders. She did not feel the hands wrap around her and hold her close to something solid. When the episode subsided, all she could do was look up through her glazed eyes and see beautiful emerald gems staring down at her. Only when she saw the sharp teeth did she realize it was Dean. Sam told herself she should stand up, try to say she was fine. Right now, there just did not seem to be point. Her head rested upon his chest, but this time she could feel her weight lifted off the ground where she fell._

_Dean whispered kind words, telling Sam it was over and that she was all right. He gently placed Sam on her bed in the current hotel they were staying. Her visions had been getting worse. It seemed with every episode she tried to avoid, the more painful they were. This last one took the cake. Dean had just returned from parking the impala to see Sam silently screaming. He caught her just as she fell. His fangs had pierced through his gums on instinct to danger, but he allowed them to return where they came from now. Sam would be all right, she just needed to sleep it off. Dean put her under the covers and was about to walk away when he felt a warm hand hold him in place._

_“Don’t… please don’t leave.”_

_Sam’s voice was hoarse, but Dean heard the request all the same._

_“I don’t want… another… not again.” She mumbled, her eyes struggling to stay open._

_Dean froze, not knowing what to do. He let her hand fall from his as he went to turn off all the lights in the room. He heard her heart beat through the blankets as he crawled beside her. Dean felt her breath of relief on his arm as it wrapped from behind her. Sam was defenseless and vulnerable. A monster like Dean should jump at the opportunity to rip into a vein. Nevertheless, he was distracted by the fact that she trusted Dean enough to let him this close to her. How could he think of anything else?_

_Her back to his chest, her hands resting on his arms. Sam’s shoulder and neck created the perfect place for Dean to place his head. For once, he did not feel like her scent was taking over him like crashing wave’s over rocks. Perhaps it was because he could smell himself on her. Dean tried to ignore the underlying pride he had. It was only their time being around each other that made her scent like his._

_Sam’s body relaxed, her heart soft, and her breathing paced. It was a lullaby putting Dean to sleep. Just before the sandman came for him, Dean wondered if he was beginning to smell like Sam, too._

_~~~~~_

“Why?” Dean asked with a smirk. “What do you think happened?” He knew full well the answer Sam would never admit.

She cleared her throat and ignored the question as she picked up her flannel.

“Still doesn’t explain why my pants are on the floor.” Sam stated accusingly. Dean through his hands up in surrender.

“ _You_ woke up in the middle of the night claiming it was hot as hell in here, and threw them off.”

Sam was beyond blushing at this point.

“So. Michigan. We should, uhm, investigate.”

Dean’s head rested on his hand for a moment longer, his eyes analyzing her slowly.

“Alright.” He rose and looked around for his own pants. Sam ignored the tug of his shirt around his shoulders and back. “Let’s get to work.”

 

                                                                                ~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Sam perused the newspapers she printed off from the hotel lobby as the Impala’s engine hummed its way through the bumpy road. She paused occasionally to sip the hot coffee Dean got for her at the last gas station without realizing the routine that they had inadvertently fallen into.

It had been a month and a half since the vampire nest fiasco. Since then, they had covered three cases. After their wendigo hunt, there was a vengeful spirit in a small town of Wisconsin. There was the typical brush with death that was of course blocked by bond building between the vampire and hunter. They had each other’s backs. By the next case, they knew what made the other tick, and the styles of they approached with hunting.

Sam was analytical. Her research was thorough, and by the time they walked in a situation they had some knowledge of what they were getting into. She could corner any reluctant civilian or otherwise into answering her questions. Dean could not help feel like he was in the presence of a lawyer sometimes.

Dean was forward. He had no trouble scouting out the monsters, never flinching when approached with an attack. His experience was evident whenever it came to hand-to-hand combat. Dean’s sixth sense proved useful countless times. He could sense the liars and pick up details that Sam could not. His work only got sloppy when he was distracted by Sam’s wellbeing. It was unnecessary, but he could not help it.

By the third hunt, they moved like gears in a clock. Dean scared the shit out of some teenagers after they had accidentally released an evil entity from an old spell book they found buried in one of their basements. It seemed like a twisted after school special. _Don’t do drugs, kids. Don’t feel peer pressured by alcohol. Don’t release supernatural evil just for kicks._ They got out of the bind with only minor cuts and bruises.

But a routine had formed between them. Dean knew the way Sam preferred her coffee with more milk and sugar than the actual espresso. Sam would let Dean shower first after hunts because he was usually covered with more dirt and blood. By the time he’s done, there’s a warm blood bag waiting for him in the microwave. And Dean always left a dry towel for her by the bath.

He would still flirt and tease. She would shoot back with a remark that made them either laugh or at least grin. Sam still left messages from untraceable pay phones to Bobby and her dad, but she no longer hid it from Dean. He became more protective and alert when Sam’s visions came. They had been so intense as of late. The barriers they used to have up were gradually falling down.

“What do you got, Nancy Drew?”

Her eyes followed the sentence she highlighted.

“’Jim Miller, a resident of Saginaw was found by his son dead on Monday morning. The cause of death was carbon monoxide poisoning by his car in their family garage. Police officials presume suicide.’”

“And what does Sam Winchester presume?” Dean glances over to her. “It doesn’t really sound like our kind of deal.”

Sam put the papers back into the folder and set them in her backpack.

“I wouldn’t have had the vision if it was an ordinary suicide. There is a wake being held by the family this afternoon. We could get more of a read on what this guy was like.”

“Fair enough. What’s the address?

 

                                                                *~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Sam tugged at the tightness of the nun costume around her neck. This was a ridiculous cover, so imagine her surprise when the family actually allowed them in after claiming to be a part of the local monastery. She caught Dean trying to conceal a smug grin.

They chatted with the wife of Mr. Miller. She was torn up by the sudden incident, claiming that it came out of nowhere. Her grief was sincere, so Sam moved on to the son while Dean remained. The dark haired man sat in the corner of the kitchen, tucked away from the crowd of people. His expression was… removed. That is typical for someone who has seen a dead person, but Sam could sense there was more to his story.

“Hello, I am Sister Ruth. Are you Max?”

He nodded silently.

“Do you mind if I sit with you?”

He shrugged and continued to avoid her gaze.

Sam shuffled the skirts beneath her and rested her hands on her lap. Gosh, she hoped she looked the part. It made her more than uneasy to appear pious. Max still refused to say anything, so Sam pushed more.

“Losing a loved one is very difficult.” Sam stated. Max nodded. “Were you two close?”

“I guess.”

His eyes remained emotionless as a weak smile played on his lips. The emotions he portrayed were typical to mourners, but it almost felt rehearsed.

“Loss is… very difficult to go through.” She was not getting through to this guy. “Especially losing a parent. I actually lost my mother when I was young.”

This sparked a reaction in Max. His full attention was on Sam now.

“I’m glad you have your mother to be with you during this hard time.”

“She’s my stepmom.” He said almost a bit too quickly.

“I see.” Sam paused. “Do you know if anyone would want to cause harm to your father?”

His features began to recede back to dry emotionlessness.

“The police say it was suicide.”

“Do _you_ think it was?”

He turned almost angry, forfeiting the irritation faze which comes along with Sam’s interrogations.

“Why are you asking me these questions?”

Sam moved back slightly, but Dean arrived just in time.

“Sister Ruth, I believe we must depart.”

Sam released a breath of relief, but Max had gotten up and stormed to the upstairs. Mrs. Miller escorted her and Dean to the door, apologizing for the way her stepson was acting. They both assured her that no offence was taken before they made their way back to the Impala.

“Well that kid was a freak.”

“Dean!” Sam chided while taking off her itchy veil.

“What? I got some weird vibes from him. Tell me I’m wrong.” He returned while taking off his collar. They both shut their doors, and Dean started the vehicle.

“Did you talk to anyone else other than the wife?”

“Yeah, stereotypical weird uncle. He was helping himself to the beers in the fridge when we started talking about his brother. He spoke fondly of him before he started cursing Jim’s name for the money he owed him.”

“Murder incentive?”

“Hardly. I measured it up to be poker losses.”  Dean’s eyes paid attention to the turns of the road and the pauses of stoplights on the way to the hotel. “But interestingly enough, we got onto the topic of Max. Mentioned that he was always a weird egg. In fact, Max wasn’t supposed to be visiting the night before his father died.”

“Hmm.”

They exited the car after turning it off in the hotel parking lot. Sam got the keys to their room and started bringing in their bags when Sam felt the familiar buzzing in her ears. She only had a second of warning before she collapsed to her knees as the buzzing turned to a squealing siren in her head.

_Blinding light stung Sam’s eyes before images of the uncle appeared in her head. The buzzing stopped and she felt like she was not only watching the scene, but thrown into the situation first hand._

_Sam was standing inside the man’s house, and she felt her hand extended towards him with a knife. Her eyes widened at the realization that she was not holding it, but rather it levitated above her hand. The uncle begged pathetically for his life. Sam felt her brow clench at the old man. She was angry with him. Sam wanted him to pay for everything he had done. She remembered him throwing beer bottles at her when she was small. Sam remembered hiding her bruises when she went out. The fat man was going to get the same fate as Jim. Then, Sam felt her wrist flinch and the knife buried itself right below the man’s receding hairline._

Just as quickly as she was thrown into the vision, she was released from the scene. She was not free yet. The voice that struck fear into her very core played whispers into her ears.

_Samantha… why would you do such a thing?_

Why are you doing this? What do you want from me!?

_Is that how you thank me after giving you glimpses of your future?_

Leave me alone.

_Not everything is about you Smantha. You will find that out soon enough._

The buzzing came to a halt, and the vision was through. She felt the comfort of Dean holding her, and it was her solace. He was firm and solid; he was someone she could hold onto while she recovered from shaking.

“-me what happened. Sam, can you hear me?”

Dean felt her nod against his chest. Sam curled into his grip, and she looked up to him with intensity in her eyes. Unlike earlier when she was overcome with exhaustion.

“Dean. We have to get to Jim Miller’s brother.”

**Author's Note:**

> Lol, sleep, who needs sleep? Let's write fanfiction instead!  
> Anyway, I apologize for any errors. Also don't forget to leave comments and Kudos if you enjoyed!


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